


The Pact on the Island

by valis2



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valis2/pseuds/valis2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's business as usual for the Riptide Detective Agency.  Yeah, that bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings**: This is a Nick h/c fic with some plot. I did try for some realism, but keep in mind that this is based on the show, and therefore will follow many of the familiar paths of eighties detective shows. I know very little about nautical or medical matters, and I know even less about the waters off the coast of California.  
> **Author's notes:** Thank you so much to Tinx for being so inspiring, and helping out so much. Thanks especially to Oddmonster for being so good-natured about being tortured with veiled questions about this fic. Murray's line about the Roboz is taken from the pilot episode. I listened to a song called "Garlands" by Tori Amos a lot more than probably was healthy while writing this.  
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. I make no money from this work of fiction.

Another cold, wet, and miserable stakeout.

Cody sat in the front seat, bored out of his skull, as the rain hammered the roof of the Jimmy. Nick sat in the passenger seat, peering through night-vision binoculars, his viewing punctuated with occasional yawns.

Five nights, and nothing yet.

In the backseat, Murray tapped and tapped on his portable keyboard, giggling at some shared joke with the Roboz as he merrily quintuple-checked the data parameters for the ASCII transfer modality in the...oh, forget it, he had no idea what Murray was doing. Cody gave an exasperated sigh. He just wanted this stakeout to end.

Nick put the binoculars down and stretched. He rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted. Cody felt a pang of sympathy wash over him; Nick always had difficulty sleeping during the day, whereas Cody had no problems with dropping the blinds and sacking out. Five nights of staking out a skanky motel and not getting any rest had turned Nick into a near-zombie, but he would not—_could_ not—be talked out of it, that much Cody knew.

"This is it," said Nick quietly. "Gotta be the last night for us, Cody."

"We agreed to—"

"I _know_ what we agreed to," said Nick. "But this is crazy. Either the husband's wrong, or they're meeting somewhere else."

"I don't think they are," said Murray cheerfully. "I've been monitoring all of the rooms in this area and there doesn't seem to be any activity that matches. Besides, they haven't canceled this room yet."

"Could be they paid up front," said Nick, yawning. "Maybe they're onto us."

Cody snagged the binoculars from Nick, looking across the parking lot at the room, dark and empty, the curtains open. Only one of the rooms at the motel had a light on; everything else was quiet and still as the rain poured down.

"I think it might be a ritual for them," said Murray. "They've never changed their habit before. This might be the same room they started their affair in. Some couples go back to the same places over and—"

"Well, something scared them off." Nick leaned his head back onto the headrest and half-closed his eyes.

"I'll do another search, though," said Murray.

"Good idea," murmured Nick.

"Mr. Darnell was pretty insistent that they'd show," said Cody. "I don't think his wife knows that he knows that she's cheating."

Nick only nodded.

"In fact, I wonder if they'll stay together after," said Cody, watching as Nick's eyelids slowly closed. "I think that he's madder at the guy than he is at her. I think he still really loves her." He spoke more softly. "In fact, he's so lovesick he might just forgive her...maybe buy her a diamond ring...a new pair of socks..."

Nick was completely out, his head lolling to the side. Cody grinned. He might as well let him sleep a little; if anything happened, he'd wake him up. He looked at Murray, putting a finger to his lips. Murray nodded and went back to tapping on his keyboard.

The shattering of the Jimmy's window behind his head was so loud that Cody nearly jumped out of his skin. He went for his gun but the door was yanked open behind him, unbalancing him. Hands grabbed him and pulled him forcibly out of the car, nearly ripping off his leg in the process of getting it past the steering wheel, or at least it felt like it. The rain was cold on his face. He heard his gun clatter to the ground.

"Looking for me?"

Cody looked up, blinking through the rain, to see a guy standing above him, his eyes blazing with anger. More than a guy—a giant. He was at least four inches taller than Cody, and he was built like a football player. A very big football player. Cody got to his feet, his glance flicking to his gun on the pavement, wondering if he could get to it quickly enough.

"You thought you'd get the drop on us," said the man. "Send pics back to her old man." He grinned nastily. "That's not gonna happen."

"Stop it, Jack!" screamed a woman. Cody risked a glance in her direction and immediately recognized Mrs. Darnell from the pictures her husband had showed them.

Jack lunged forward, faster than Cody would have ever expected, and grabbed Cody by the throat, shoving him up against the Jimmy.

"Let him go!" Nick had come around the other side of the Jimmy, his gun out and trained on Jack.

"Drop your piece," said Jack. Cody immediately recognized the tone. This was a man used to violence, and used to getting his own way, which made him dangerous. He felt the meaty hand around his throat squeeze, and he made a desperate squeaking noise.

Nick hesitated for a second more, and the hand squeezed tighter. Spots swam in Cody's vision.

"Now!" shouted Jack.

There was a clatter of metal, and then Cody was flung to the ground again. He gasped and coughed, trying to draw air back into his lungs. When he could think clearly again, he saw Nick desperately trading blows with Jack, until a hard kick to Nick's ribs knocked him down to the wet pavement. Jack grabbed for something on the ground.

Cody lunged at him, but was brought up short by his own gun in Jack's hand. "Er...I'm certain we can come to an agreement," said Cody, backpedaling. "We don't have to tell anyone...uh...about you and Mrs. Darnell..."

"You're not gonna tell anyone _anything_," said Jack, smiling. "I'm gonna plug you both."

From the look in his eyes, Cody knew he was completely serious. "Jack, no!" screamed Mrs. Darnell. "Please!"

"It'll look like a lover's spat," he said, grinning, and cocked the gun.

"Drop your gun!" said Nick, gun in hand, pointed at Jack.

Jack turned, gun still in hand, raising it to shoot. "Watch out, Nick!" shouted Cody.

There was a deafening bang, and Jack exclaimed in pain as he grabbed his leg.

"Drop it!" shouted Nick.

Jack hesitated for a moment, slowly lowering his piece, and then his hand was a blur as he raised it again. Cody's eyes went wide as he saw the gun coming up. _Nick—not enough time to get out of the way—_

There was another shot, and Jack dropped to the ground, the gun falling out of his hand. Nick walked up and kicked it under the Jimmy, a hard expression on his face.

Cody could hear sirens in the distance; Murray must have notified the police. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs, and he stood up, a little shaky, nodding at Nick, catching his eyes. _I'm all right._

Mrs. Darnell fell to her knees, sobbing, her face in her hands.

* * *

"And you really expect me to believe this," said Lt Quinlan.

"That's what happened," said Nick angrily. "He took Cody's gun. He would have killed us all."

"We'll just see what _she_ has to say," said Quinlan, inclining his head toward Mrs. Darnell, a smirk on his face as he walked off.

Nick slowly sat back down on the wet bumper of the Jimmy, his arm curled around his midsection. The paramedics had said none of his ribs were cracked, but it didn't mean that he wasn't bruised, and it was difficult to take in a full breath.

"Are you okay, Nick?" asked Murray, sitting down next to him. He took off his glasses, wiping the raindrops off with his shirt. Nick nodded. "They're talking to Mrs. Darnell now. I wonder if she'll corroborate our story."

Nick was aware of how bad it looked. The only guns involved were theirs, and a man was dead. "If she doesn't..."

"Good thing I used the satellite uplink to transmit the signal to the police," said Murray. "Otherwise it would have taken a lot longer for them to arrive at the scene."

"Yeah. Great job, Murray." Nick winced as he took too deep a breath.

Cody leaned on the Jimmy next to them, blocking out the glare from the motel's sign. "Quinlan's taking Mrs. Darnell's statement." His voice rasped a little.

"Hope she tells the truth," said Nick.

Cody rubbed his throat. The rain had let up, but all three of them were still soaked to the bone. Nick suppressed a shiver. The image of Cody being strangled came back in a rush, and he closed his eyes against it.

Nick sat in silence, Cody's hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder, as Murray and Cody discussed the case. He reopened his eyes, noticing that it looked a bit lighter outside, and he realized that dawn wasn't far off.

Quinlan came back. "Your story seems to check out," he said gruffly. "For now."

"Of course it does," shot Nick. "It's the truth. Something you might have trouble understanding."

"We'll still be doing a full investigation," said Quinlan, leaning in so he could glare at Nick. "Don't leave King Harbor." He jabbed his finger in Nick's face.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Nick, standing up and glaring in return, viciously squashing the ache in his ribs.

"Leave your vehicle," growled Quinlan. "It's part of the scene."

"What? We're—" said Cody.

"I know you're attached to your beach buggy, but it'll have to be impounded," said Quinlan, grinning from ear to ear. "And leave your guns," he added.

"You can't—" said Nick heatedly.

"Want to come downtown and discuss this further?" said Quinlan, looking even more sadistic than usual.

Nick grimaced.

"Get out of here before I arrest you for obstructing justice," said Quinlan. He turned and walked off to exchange words with his partner.

"We need to get the Roboz out of the car," insisted Murray. "I'll just go let him know that we're taking—"

"No!" said Nick and Cody in unison.

"What Quinlan doesn't know won't hurt him," said Cody. He glanced at Nick, who nodded and stood watch while Cody retrieved the robot.

* * *

Nick stood on the corner of the nearest intersection, watching as Murray tapped away on his keyboard and directed a cab to pick them up. The sun was now high above the horizon, and Nick wished he'd thought to get his sunglasses out of the Jimmy.

"We don't really blend in, do we," said Cody, looking amusedly at the Roboz, who had attracted several curious glances.

Nick shook his head and immediately regretted it when a flash of pain spiked behind his eyeballs, the result of too many days without sleep. Cody's hand came to rest on his back, steadying him, and Nick rubbed his eyes, feeling completely burned out.

"This a robot?" A woman with missing teeth bent down to peer at the Roboz.

Murray brightened. "Well, technically speaking, he's a complicated transmitter and receiver that converts electrical impulses and visual stimuli into—"

The woman looked dubiously at the little robot. "He _orange_."

Before Murray could start explaining color theory and robotics, Cody interrupted him, saying, "We like orange."

Nick looked up to see a cab driving slowly down the block, and he stepped forward to flag it. It pulled up, the driver looking at the Roboz with one raised eyebrow.

"Pop the trunk," Nick said through the open window.

"Nick, the Roboz has delicate sensors, and you know it's not a good idea—"

"Murray, he's not going to fit in the cab with us." The cab driver came around and opened the trunk, and Cody and Nick slipped it inside, checking to make certain that it wouldn't get damaged when they shut it. "There, all secure." Nick squeezed Murray's shoulder. "He'll probably be more comfortable than us."

Murray took the front seat, and Nick got into the back seat after Cody. It was a bit of a struggle but he didn't let on. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He was so damned tired.

"I'll call Mr. Darnell later today," said Cody.

"Good idea," said Nick, yawning again.

"I think the Roboz needs a new vertical discrepancy transponder," said Murray. "I might have to rewire his light-detecting circuitry and his inframodular relay wavelength monitor...I think the rain disrupted it, or we might have had advance warning."

"Advance warning of what?" said Cody.

"Of the guy who attacked us," said Murray patiently. "If I enhance Roboz's metered viewpoint readings..."

"Wish I hadn't fallen asleep," said Nick softly. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"C'mon, you were half-dead on your feet," said Cody. "You could barely keep your eyes open."

Nick inhaled sharply to make a heated reply, but winced in pain instead.

"Sometimes it just doesn't work out as planned," said Cody. "Look, we came through okay."

They were all silent for a few miles.

"We could use a fishing vacation," said Cody.

"For a week," said Nick. Hell, he felt like he could _sleep_ for a whole week at the moment.

"We could go out into the ocean for a couple days," said Cody. "We're supposed to have good weather today and tomorrow..."

"Uh, guys, I meant to mention this sooner, but I have plans for tomorrow night," said Murray.

"Plans?" asked Nick.

"Are you meeting Tiffany?" asked Cody, grinning.

"Tiffany?" asked Nick. "Who's Tiffany?"

"He met her at a robotics seminar," said Cody, looking at him briefly before turning back to Murray. "Where're you taking her?"

Murray blushed deeply. "Well, Cody, it isn't a matter of taking her anywhere—I was hoping that she wouldn't mind driving..."

"You can take the 'Vette, if you want," said Nick.

"I can? Really? Oh, that would be so boss!" said Murray. "Thanks, Nick!"

Cody gave him a surprised look, and Nick just grinned. "He'll have a good night if he rolls up in the 'Vette." He turned back to Murray. "Just remember, no scratches."

"Sure thing, Nick—"

"Which pier did you say?" interrupted the driver.

"Fifty-six," said Murray. "It's further down."

"Yeah, thanks, I can count," said the driver.

Walking down the companionway was not an issue; Nick had done it in worse condition. Getting on board was trickier, however, and Cody lent him a helping hand. He went straight for the aspirin and chased it down with a few swallows of water.

"I'm going to call Mr. Darnell," said Cody, and Nick nodded and went downstairs. He took off his shirt in the bathroom and grimaced at the dark purple bruising on his midsection. Brushing his teeth, he looked at the black circles under his eyes. He could barely keep them open. Rinsing, he spat water in the sink and held on for a long moment, feeling fatigue in every bone in his body.

Kicking off his shoes, he lay down on the bed, his eyelids twitching as he tried to relax. He knew he should take his jeans off, maybe even get under the covers, but he didn't seem to be able to make the effort. The cabin seemed to wash out, a dark shape looming over him...

"You must be tired," said Cody, laughing. He grabbed the cuffs of Nick's jeans and began to pull.

"Hey, wait, let me unbutton them," said Nick, aware that he was slurring his words. He undid the fly.

Cody yanked his jeans off. Nick heard a jingle as coins fell out of his pocket all over the floor. Cody bent down and tugged a blanket over him, still chuckling. Turning to the windows, he closed the blinds on each, going around the room until it was dark. "G'night," he said, and Nick heard the springs creak as he settled down on his own bed.

"Yeah, g'night," said Nick, closing his eyes.

Sleep did not come. Nick lay there, listening to Cody's soft breathing, hearing the sounds of seagulls crying, idling motors, people laughing at the next slip. His head pounded insistently. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, feeling the room sway. He wondered if he should take more aspirin.

Cody rolled over and muttered something, but soon enough he was back asleep.

His mind kept racing, and Nick put the heels of his hands against his forehead. He couldn't stop thinking about the sound of breaking glass, of seeing Cody being pulled through the door. If only he'd been awake, the guy would never've gotten the drop on them...

Jack could have so easily killed Cody. Murray. All three of them. The bastard had even taken Cody's own gun and nearly shot him with it.

He lay back down, but he knew that it was useless; he was too sleep-deprived at this point. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving him shaky and drained, but there was a buzzing at the back of his skull, and it wouldn't let him sleep.

Back on deck, in a pair of sweatpants, Nick watched the water, a bottle of beer in his hand. Murray wasn't asleep, either; he'd caught sight of him while he was on his way up, soldering something to a circuit board, and didn't want to interrupt.

The sky was utterly blue, perfect. A cool breeze uncoiled over the water, and he felt his body slowly give in; he felt the weight pressing on his chest ease.

It would be a great day to take Mimi out. Too bad he was in no shape to fly her at the moment. He imagined the gorgeous sky, the land stretching out below, a few wispy clouds trailing through the blue...

"Ahoy, Nick!"

He turned back to the dock to see Mama Jo flagging him down. He waved and made his way to the fantail.

"Hey, Mama Jo."

"You look like shit." Her eyes wandered down to the bruises on his torso.

"Thanks." He toasted her with his bottle of beer.

"Hear you killed John Shaker last night," she said levelly.

"_John_ Shaker?" said Nick, confused for only a moment before he realized that Jack was probably a nickname.

"Good job," said Mama Jo. "That trash tried to rough up some of my girls a few years ago. He was a nasty piece of work."

Nick nodded and took a swig from his beer.

"Any leads on the vandalism?"

"Uh, no," said Nick. They'd been too preoccupied with the Darnell case.

"You'd better come up with something quick," she said, narrowing her eyes. "The Association is talking about hiring someone else. If you don't figure this out, and soon, you'll be paying your slip fees. A year in advance, just like everyone else." She fixed him with a glare. "We're tired of finding spray paint everywhere."

"We'll get right on it."

She nodded and walked briskly away.

John Shaker. He thought he'd heard that name before, but he couldn't place it. Frowning, he went back into the cabin, just in time to see Cody emerging from below, rubbing his eyes, tying his orange bathrobe shut.

"Hi, Nick," said Murray, who was seated at the table, tinkering with a remote control device. "I just finished those repairs on the Roboz. Next time, he'll be able to warn us sooner."

"That's really great," said Nick, sitting down at the table. Cody slid in next to him, and Nick forced himself to look away from the bruises on his neck.

"Do you think Quinlan will arrest us?" said Murray.

"It was self-defense, Murray," said Cody. He glanced at the coffeepot, which was empty.

"Talked to Mama Jo," said Nick, yawning. "She said...if we don't solve the vandalism case..."

"Yeah, I know, she told me too," said Cody.

"I've set up surveillance equipment near the targeted areas," said Murray, screwing the casing shut on the remote control. "They're triggered by motion. We should see some results soon.

Cody was warm next to him, and Nick could feel his eyes starting to slide shut.

"You should get back in bed," said Cody.

"Yeah, think I will," said Nick. Cody slid out and took his arm, helping him to his feet. Nick made his way back downstairs to his bunk, if a bit unsteadily, and lay down heavily, not bothering to take off his pants. He was out in a matter of seconds.

* * *

"Gin!" said Cody, grinning broadly and laying down his cards.

"Oh, that's good, Cody, that's very good!" enthused Murray. "I knew you had to win a round at some point. The law of averages—"

"Yeah, thanks, Murray," he said, forestalling him. Murray picked up the cards and began to shuffle. Cody looked down the staircase toward their room, hoping that Nick hadn't been wakened by the jet skiers that had passed by, but there was no sign of movement.

"I have a theory that the vandals are striking after midnight," announced Murray. "If we wait until tonight, and watch the monitors at that time, we should be able to catch them red-handed."

"Sounds great." Cody rubbed his throat again. The guy's grip had been intense, and he could still feel the ache. "I was thinking we should just get a pizza tonight. Y'know, hang out with a beer or two. Maybe take a nap before the action starts..."

Murray finished dealing. "Pizza? That would be boss!"

Cody picked up his hand, and almost looked down the staircase again, but caught himself. Dropping a card on the discard pile, he looked up at Murray expectantly.

"Do you really think the police will decide it was self-defense?" asked Murray, adjusting his glasses. "You don't think Nick will go to jail, do you?"

"No," said Cody automatically. "The guy had my gun in his hand—the wife backed us up on that. He was going to shoot all of us." He dropped another card on the discard pile.

"Cody, I haven't discarded yet."

"Oh, sorry." He picked it back up.

"It's okay." Murray looked at his cards and selected one, dropping it. "Is Mr. Darnell going to drop off the payment soon?"

"Tomorrow, I think," said Cody, studying his cards intently. He picked up a fresh card and discarded an old one. "He even said he might give us a bonus."

"A bonus?" Murray looked confused.

"Let's just say that he wasn't exactly saddened by how it all worked out." Cody rearranged his cards, but it didn't help; it was a losing hand.

"Oh." Murray looked troubled. "Is that right? To take a bonus...for..."

"I'm just going to consider it a bonus for a job well done. It's too bad it took a tragic turn, that's all."

Murray sank back in his seat. "It just seems...wrong, somehow."

Cody sighed and dropped the rest of his cards on the table. "Yeah, I know, but we really could use it, Murray. Just imagine that he would have given us a bonus regardless of how the case ended."

Murray put his cards down, too. "That's a good way of thinking of it."

"I'm going to check on Nick." He went down the staircase, headed toward their bedroom. The blinds were still closed and it was dark in the room. His eyes slowly adjusted, and he grinned when he saw Nick, oblivious to the world, lying on top of his blankets, still wearing his sweatpants. Cody took a blanket from his own bed and covered him.

* * *

Nick woke with a foul taste in his mouth and a crick in his neck. He sat up, grimacing at the pain in his ribs, and stretched as much as he could, trying to loosen the tension in his upper back. It was dark out, and he rubbed his eyes. He stood up slowly, yawning, and made his way to the head.

The hot water ran out before he was done with his shower, and he had to rinse with mouthwash three times before the taste was gone, but when he finally emerged he felt at least marginally better.

Changing into jeans and a t-shirt, he went upstairs to find a half-eaten pizza on the table. His stomach twinged at the thought, and he gulped down a glass of water with a couple aspirin instead.

He heard voices from Murray's stateroom, and went off to find them staring at monitors.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," said Cody, grinning.

"Yeah, funny, Cody," said Nick, sitting down next to him. "See anything yet?"

"Nothing," said Cody.

"We've been watching for two hours," said Murray. "No activity, except for a few kids wandering around, but they've disappeared." He looked remarkably chipper, considering the last twenty-four hours. "I have three cameras set up, one at each of the sites where the vandalism has been occurring."

Nick looked at the grainy image of the dock skeptically. "You think they'll come back?"

"Statistically speaking, the probability is high; I'd put it at 78.6 or even 78.7."

"And then we'll call the cops," said Cody.

"You think they'll stick around in one spot long enough to get arrested? They probably hop from boat to boat." Nick absently curled his arm around his aching waist, until he realized Cody was not-so-surreptitiously watching him, and he moved his arm back to his side.

"Maybe we should encourage them to stay put," said Cody.

"Now this is interesting," said Murray, squinting at the monitor. "I think I see the miscreants approaching."

Nick and Cody both jumped up and made their way to Murray's screen. "Kids," said Cody. "Spray paint, carving initials into boats...when their parents find out..."

"I'll call the police," said Murray, reaching for the phone. Nick and Cody were already halfway out the door.

The air was cool, and though Nick usually took the lead, Cody outpaced him easily. They headed down to the southern end, where a branching section of the pier led to a small section of boats where mostly weekenders docked. It made sense that the kids were vandalizing boats there, as it was mid-week and no one was likely to be aboard.

The dock was easy enough to block at one end; the kids had to go through them, or through the water, to get back to the street. Either way, the cops would pick them up. It was a waiting game. Privately, Nick hoped that none of them were armed, but they looked young enough that they probably weren't.

Ribs aching, he finally caught up to Cody, who stood, hands on his hips, watching them with his best intimidating look.

When Nick had caught his breath, he said, "Jeez, I think one of them's the _Treasure Seeker's_ kid."

"Yeah, and there's the oldest from the _Neptune_," said Cody, sounding disgusted.

"I remember doing stuff like this when I was a kid," said Nick, "but I never did it in my own neighborhood." Cody turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow, and then turned back to watch the kids.

The tallest boy, a blonde, noticed them and pointed them out to the rest of his friends, and Nick could hear them whispering frantically. They got out of the boat, and clustered on the dock.

"Six boys, two girls," said Nick quietly. "Never thought I'd see girls out here tagging boats."

"It's a new world," said Cody, rubbing his throat. He saw Nick looking at him, and dropped his hand. The kids came closer. The two boys they'd recognized seemed ashamed.

"What do you want?" asked Blondie, coming closer, looking cocky. Nick narrowed his eyes.

"You've been vandalizing property for three weeks now," said Cody, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what?" he asked.

"So now you get to have a little talk with some of King Harbor's finest, and they'll explain the finer points of the law to you."

"No way," said Blondie. "We're outta here. You can't stop us."

"Really?" said Nick. "Because it looks like you're stopped, pal." He pointed a finger at him. Cody shot him a warning glance.

"You can't do anything," he blustered, but there was fear in his eyes. He turned back to look at his friends.

Cody gave Nick a look that clearly said _Stop antagonizing him_, and he frowned in return.

Blondie suddenly leapt forward, lunging at him, and he barely had time to put his hands up before they were sailing through the air—that is, until he collided heavily with the dock. He heard Cody yell something, but he was too busy trying to push Blondie off without really hurting him.

He heard sirens approaching, and managed to shove the kid to the side while simultaneously getting to his feet and backing up. He chanced a glance at Cody, who was holding his ground against the rest of the kids. Blondie made another sudden lunge, and when Nick dodged it, the kid shoved him to the side with both hands, and Nick barely registered that his right foot had encountered only air before he slipped off the dock entirely.

Even after so many times, the shock of the cold water was still like a physical blow. It was like falling into a stack of icy pins. He slowly stroked toward the surface and broke through, inhaling carefully, his ribs on fire.

Cody was on his knees at the edge of the dock. "—okay, Nick?"

"What?"

"You need to swim to the end of this dock—there's a ladder there—I can't pull you out here."

Nick nodded and made his way around the boat to the end of the dock. It was slow going, and halfway through he had to hold onto the boat's swim platform while he caught his breath.

The ladder was tough to navigate, but Cody was there, pulling him up bodily onto the dock when Nick slipped on the rungs. Nick leaned heavily against him, taking shallow breaths, shivering.

"Am I interrupting a moment?" asked Quinlan, trading a smirk with the cop who stood next to him.

Cody didn't release his hold on Nick; if anything, he tightened his grip. "We have video evidence of those kids vandalizing boats and Pier 56 property," he said. "We'll send over the tapes."

"Sure thing," grinned Quinlan. "We'll get right on it. After we finish our recent homicide case." He leered at them both. "Give your statement to Carlisle here and then get out of here. I know you both want to get back to your nocturnal activities." He gave them an exaggerated wink and walked off toward the other cops.

Carlisle wrote their statements down dutifully, and Cody again promised to bring the tapes in later on in the day, never letting go of Nick the entire time.

Nick looked around at the faces of the people who had gathered. Many of the pier regulars were watching. Thankfully, they hadn't messed up, the kids had been caught, and it looked like a success for the Riptide Detective Agency, if a waterlogged one.

He looked up at the street for a moment, his attention caught by a dark figure standing behind the chain-link fence. He blinked, and they were gone. Shaking his head, he put it down to fatigue.

"You gotta stop falling in the harbor, Nick," admonished Cody.

"Just tell me how, pal," said Nick. His sneakers made sloshing noises as they walked back to the boat.


	2. Chapter 2

Cold pizza for breakfast. Cody made certain to leave a couple slices for Nick, who was still sleeping soundly, wrapped in an extra blanket; not even a loud argument on the next boat had woken him.

Up in the wheelhouse, Cody watched as the pier bustled with energy. The _Barefoot Contessa_ was out for its morning charter, and most of the fishermen were on the water as well. He turned on the marine radio and listened absently to the chatter; he thought briefly about taking the _Ebb Tide_ out for a quick run, but remembered that he hadn't refueled after his last trip.

Fiddling with the dial, he listened to the emergency channel for awhile, and shook his head as a fishing charter captain reported a rental boat that had run out of fuel the night before and drifted quite far out into the open water. _'Tis the season_, thought Cody. Lots of college kids and tourists came down and partied on rented boats, and there were always snafus. The Coast Guard would sort it out.

He turned the radio off, looking up at the street for a moment. A guy stood behind the chain link fence, staring at the _Riptide_. A new client, perhaps? But then he was gone, and Cody shrugged his shoulders.

"Ahoy, _Riptide_!" said a voice.

"Ahoy!" called out Cody. He looked down at the dock to see Mr. and Mrs. Darnell standing next to the boat. "C'mon aboard!"

He showed them into the salon, immediately noticing that Nick was already seated with a cup of coffee in hand; the pizza box was gone and the table had been cleared of the plates and beer bottles. Nick gave him the briefest of pointed glances at the clean table, and then he stood up (slowly, though) and shook the clients' hands. Murray emerged from the stateroom, looking chipper, and he shook their hands as well.

"Linda and I wanted to stop by and drop off the balance before we leave for Tahiti," said Mr. Darnell. He was dressed impeccably in a suit, his hand lingering on his wife's arm. She looked miserable, her eyes haunted, and Cody thought he could see the shadow of a bruise around her left eye.

"Tahiti? That's so boss!" enthused Murray. "There's a legend about the black pearl and returning lovers—"

"That's great, Murray, but I'm certain they're eager to get on their way," interrupted Cody. "Maybe next time."

"Tahiti?" said Nick, raising an eyebrow.

"We've cleared it with the local authorities," said Mr. Darnell smoothly. "Here, this should cover your expenses." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a white envelope, handing it to Cody. "I appreciate your help in this matter. A job well-done." Mrs. Darnell winced.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Darnell. It's just a shame that it had to end in tragedy."

"Yes, too true," said Mr. Darnell, his expression saying exactly the opposite. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be off to the airport. I hope you enjoy the fine weather." Mrs. Darnell stared morosely at the bruises on Cody's neck.

"Have a good trip," said Cody. Mrs. Darnell nodded.

"Bon voyage," said Murray. The Darnells left.

"Is it just me, or does Mrs. Darnell look less than delighted?" said Nick, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Did you see that black eye?"

Nick nodded. "Looked old...I wonder if it was from dear old Jack."

"I'll bet it was," said Cody, grimacing.

"Do you think her affair was an abusive relationship?" asked Murray. "That's horrible!"

"She probably got in over her head," said Nick. "Maybe she indulged, and then Jack made her continue the relationship, threatening to tell her husband if she didn't keep seeing him."

"I wonder how she explained the bruises to him," said Cody, watching through the blinds as they disappeared up the companionway.

"No idea." Nick set down his coffee cup with a thump. "I'm gonna go do some repairs on Mimi."

"Yeah, sure, see you later," said Cody.

* * *

Mimi was a welcome sight. Nick opened the door and climbed in, sitting down on the couch. His checklist was somewhere behind the pilot's seat, but he didn't bother to retrieve it. He wrote out a new one on a piece of cardboard every few months, crossing things off as he did them, adding things to the bottom, then the back, until it was a patchwork of grease spots and scribbled notes and black lines.

He watched as a car drove by just a little too slowly. Frowning, he squinted, trying to get a better look, but the windows were tinted. He couldn't quite make out the plate number.

Mentally shrugging it off, he turned his attention back to Mimi, and grabbed his toolbox. There were a few things he could probably finish before dinner.

* * *

After dropping the tape off to the police, Cody wandered over to Straightaway's for a few drinks, enjoying the view of the pier. The late afternoon sun was warm on his face, and the breeze from the ocean smelled comfortingly of saltwater. Straightaway himself came over to tell him that the drinks were on the house; apparently the kids they'd busted had also defaced his building.

Feeling pleasantly buzzed after a couple hours, he got up and waved goodbye to the waitress, making his way back through the restaurant and out the door.

He passed a couple on the companionway, and then a woman who turned her head as he got close; she looked like she was scoping out a nearby boat. Something about her was familiar, but he put it out of mind as he saw Murray waving excitedly at him from the stern of the _Riptide_. He jogged down the rest of the way.

"What's up, Murray?" he asked, climbing into the boat.

"Mrs. Darnell just hired us for a case!" Murray looked quite pleased.

"Wait—what are you talking about?" asked Cody.

"Mrs. Darnell was just here," said Murray patiently. "She said she wants us to investigate her husband."

"Mr. Darnell."

"Yes, Mr. Darnell."

"Our last client."

"Yes, Cody. I was thinking that it would be very boss to get two jobs out of the pair!"

"Wait, you're saying that you took the case already?"

"Well, yes, Cody, you were just saying that we needed the money—"

"But Murray, we need to talk about these things first—"

"Talk about what things?" said Nick.

Cody turned to see Nick attempting to get on board, and grabbed his arm, helping him over the side. "Murray just got us a new client," he said, smiling humorlessly.

"Oh yeah, Murray? Who?"

"Mrs. Darnell. Isn't that boss?"

"Wait—the wife hired us? Why?" Nick looked confused.

"Let's discuss this inside," said Cody, still holding onto his arm.

Murray followed them in. "She wants us to look into her husband's affairs," he said. "She thinks his business might not be completely legitimate."

"Were you in on this?" asked Nick, looking directly at Cody.

"Actually, I was just asking Murray why he took the case." They both looked at Murray and crossed their arms.

"Look, guys, she's in trouble. She said it wasn't Jack who was hitting her—it was Mr. Darnell. She said that she was going to run away with Jack."

They exchanged glances. "Mr. Darnell just paid us," said Cody weakly. "In cash." He didn't want to think of what would happen if they took his wife's case.

Nick paused for a long moment, an intense look on his face, and Cody knew that the battle was lost. He could see the spark of interest in Nick's eyes. "She told the truth to the cops, and she didn't have to. She could have just hung us out to dry. Maybe she's telling the truth here, too."

"Did you get a deposit?" asked Cody.

"Well, no," said Murray, taken aback. "She said she isn't allowed to access the accounts, but—" Cody groaned.

"Did she give you any leads?" asked Nick.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she did," said Murray. "I was just about to start researching them. She said that she thinks that he's part of a drug-smuggling operation."

"This is heavy stuff," said Cody, looking at Nick.

"How's he involved?" said Nick.

"He owns two nightclubs here in King Harbor," said Murray, adjusting his glasses. "He might be helping someone launder money through them."

"Really heavy stuff," said Cody.

"He paid us in cash?" said Nick, frowning.

"I wonder if it can be traced to us," said Cody.

"And won't it look suspicious that his old lady's boyfriend is dead, and we have pockets full of cash." Nick sat down on the bench seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking defeated. There was grease on his wrist.

"If we go after him, he could tell the police that he hired us to take out the boyfriend," said Cody.

"And if we don't, she could change her story, claim we strong-armed her into this," said Nick.

"I think we should help her," said Murray decisively. "It would be the right thing to do."

"We could look into his nightclubs..." said Nick.

"Not tonight," said Cody decisively. "We're taking the night off." He gave Nick a look. It had been a hellish walk back to the boat the night before, and getting him warm and dry had been a struggle.

"But Cody, it might be too late—" said Murray

"And what about your date with Tiffany?"

He blushed. "I'm sure she'd understand."

"You could research the clubs before you leave, and tomorrow we'll all work on it," said Cody.

"He's got a point," said Nick.

"You think so?" Murray adjusted his glasses, looking uncertain. "But Mrs. Darnell seemed so upset..."

"Wasn't she supposed to be getting on a plane for Tahiti?" asked Nick.

"She said that he cancelled the tickets right after they spoke to us."

"Well, then, they're not going anywhere," said Cody. "All the more reason for you to go out and enjoy yourself with Nick's 'Vette."

"My—" Nick looked up, startled, and then seemed to remember. "Yeah, Murray, here." He fished the keys out of his pocket.

"Wow, Nick, thanks! This is so boss!" Murray took the keys from Nick. "This is going to be the best night ever!"

Nick and Cody exchanged a grin.

* * *

Evening gave way to night, and Nick rubbed his eyes after the third game of Scrabble.

"You give up?" asked Cody, looking smug.

"Yeah, yeah, you win," said Nick. He took another swig of beer.

"I wonder how Murray's doing," said Cody, glancing at the clock. "It's after midnight."

"Might be out all night." Nick grinned.

Cody grinned in return. "Tiffany is a real hot girl, too, real hot. She was all over him."

"Hopefully he makes it through the night in one piece," said Nick, finishing his beer and setting it on the table. He looked out the window. "So quiet out there..."

"Well, it's a weeknight. And since the Association cracked down on the party ships..."

"They're going out into the open water to party." He yawned.

"Probably time to hit the sack." Cody stood up and stretched for a moment before packing the game pieces away.

"Yeah." He folded the game board. "You don't think Murray could be in trouble, do you?"

Cody gave him a look. "What makes you think that?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't know. I mean...this Darnell guy, I like him less and less the more I think about him. Murray has the transmitter, right?"

"Yeah, Nick, the Roboz will tell us if anything happens."

"Good." Nick stretched as well, and then remembered the odd car. "Hey, you see anything strange yesterday, or today?"

"Besides your ugly mug?" teased Cody.

Nick just gave him a look. "When I was working on Mimi, I could've sworn someone cruised past...and when we were busting those kids yesterday, there was someone watching."

"Now that you mention it, there was some guy in a dark coat watching the boat earlier today."

Nick felt a low-watt electric pulse go through his body, and immediately thought of Murray, all alone out there. _I hope he knows I have a gun in the glovebox._ "Maybe we'd better check with the Roboz—"

"Good evening, gentleman," said a man with a gun, standing in the doorway of the salon. He bore more than a passing resemblance to Jack Shaker, though he was at least a half foot shorter and a little older.

Nick put up his hands automatically, and Cody did the same. They exchanged a quick look. There was no way either of them could get to a gun.

The man entered, followed by two burly thugs, one short and stocky, one tall and lean. _Great. Abbott and Costello._

"Look, I don't know what—" began Nick.

"Nick Ryder, I presume?" asked the man. He wore thin black leather gloves.

"Yeah, but—"

"My name is Tony Shaker. I believe you killed my half-brother last night." He nodded at the thugs. Abbott went back out on deck, and Costello grabbed Cody by the back of his neck, planting his gun in his back. Nick bristled. "Now, Mr. Ryder, keep your seat. Mr. Allen is just going to take us all on a little trip. A lightless trip, if I might add. He's just going to follow the bearing he's given. Aren't you, Mr. Allen?"

Nick looked at him, his stomach twisting in fear. If they got out into the open water, anything could happen. They had to make a stand now, but with Abbott out on deck...

"Up to the wheelhouse with him," murmured Tony.

"Cody—"

"Don't worry, Mr. Ryder. He won't be harmed." Tony smiled at him, a cold, disturbing smile, and the unspoken _yet_ cut through Nick like a knife.

"I'm the one you want," said Nick. "Leave him here. I'll pilot you anywhere."

"That's not part of my plan," said Tony. Costello jabbed Cody in the back with the gun, and they left for the wheelhouse, Nick watching in fright.

"Listen—"

"No." Tony brought the gun up. "Enough talk. You're going to do what I say, or..." He smiled, looking pleased with himself. "Or your partner will suffer."

Nick shut up, a wave of fury passing over him.

Abbott came in. Tony simply nodded toward Nick, and he crossed the room, grabbing Nick's arm and pulling him out from behind the table while Tony kept the gun trained on Nick.

_These guys are well-trained,_ thought Nick, becoming more frightened for Cody every minute. _I hope Murray's okay._ Abbott grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back quickly and efficiently, and then bent down. _Wait—they're going to tie my ankles, too?_ Panic seized him.

"One wrong move, and your blond friend gets a beating," said Tony.

With hands and feet tied, Nick wouldn't be able to do anything. Hell, they could just throw him in the bay at any moment and he'd drown.

Abbott kicked him in the back of the knee, and Nick went down, barely missing the table.

"The lights," said Tony.

Nick tried to clear his head past the ache in his ribs. Where was the nearest gun? He had to put together a plan now, before they got out of the harbor.

The lights went out, and there was a hushed conversation between Tony and Abbott, and there was just enough light to see Tony leave.

Abbott sat down on the bench seat and shoved his boot into the small of Nick's back, increasing the pressure on his already pained ribs. "We're gonna have some fun with you," he promised. "Mr. Shaker was a good friend to us."

Nick gritted his teeth. He heard the engine roar to life, and the _Riptide_ shuddered as it began to back out of its slip. _Cody._

At least Murray was still missing. He hoped beyond hope that the little guy was safe. He closed his eyes and tried to figure out a plan.

* * *

The handcuff on his right wrist was just long enough to allow him full use of the helm, but not long enough to do anything else. Cody's heart sank as he noticed that the handset had been disconnected from the marine radio as well. _These guys are professionals._

The thug who had made him cuff himself to the _Riptide_ was still there with his gun in one hand and Cody's shark rifle in his other, watching him intently. _Yep, professionals._ He was shorter than the other thug, stocky and powerfully built. There was a thump from the salon, and Cody's heart squeezed in fright. The lights below abruptly went out.

Tony came up the stairs. "Start the engine." He nodded at the thug, who handed him the shark rifle and vanished below.

"Just—leave him here," said Cody quietly. "Take me instead."

Tony only smiled, pocketing his handgun. He unfolded a deck chair and sat down, just out of reach, the shark rifle in his lap. "Start the engine."

Cody hesitated for a moment, but the look in Tony's eyes promised terrible things, and he reluctantly turned the key.

"Make for the ocean," said Tony. "I'll give you a bearing when we're out of the harbor. Anything goes wrong, and we throw your friend overboard. With his hands and feet tied, he'll sink right to the bottom."

Cody's stomach flipped over. He backed out of the slip carefully, noticing that the _Ebb Tide_ was being towed behind. A possible chance, except the fuel level was too low to make it far.

The half moon gave just enough light to pilot the _Riptide_ through the bay. He kept the speed as slow as he dared, hoping that someone would see them, but they didn't pass a soul. It was too early for the charter captains, and the party boats were somewhere else.

He approached the seawall that stood between the harbor and the ocean. The sight of it frightened him more than he wanted to admit. Once they got out into the open water, it was anyone's guess what would happen. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and Nick was bound.

There was a noise from the fantail, clearly audible because the doors of the wheelhouse were wide open. It was the unmistakable noise of a fist connecting with flesh, and he heard Nick grunt in pain. Cody's entire body tensed. He heard a thump, and more noises, and then Nick's voice again, crying out.

Cody tried to calm down, tried to block it out, but he wanted to rip the handcuff off and do unspeakable things to the thugs. More noises. They were working him over, and every sound made Cody wince. He chanced a look back, and saw Tony watching him, smiling.

_He's enjoying this._

They were passing the end of the seawall, and Cody wanted to ram into it, anything, but he knew it was pointless. He stood, shaking in rage, his hands clutching the wheel so tightly that they hurt.

"That's enough, boys," said Tony, calling out to the deck. "Pick up the speed," he ordered Cody.

Cody reluctantly pushed the throttle lever forward. Part of him wanted to slam it into a different gear—Tony would go flying—but he had no idea what would happen to Nick if he did that.

Tony rattled off a heading, and Cody tried to imagine where that would take them as he smoothly turned the wheel. If they went far enough out, they'd end up in the Channel Islands. Most likely, though, they just wanted to dump them into the sea. _But why bring the _Ebb Tide_?_ he wondered. Unless they were planning to blow up the _Riptide_ and use the _Ebb Tide_ to escape. But there wasn't enough fuel—perhaps it was the other way around—

He shivered. Even though the day had been fairly warm, the night air was cooler, and he only had on a sweater and pants. He wished he'd left his jacket up here, but, then again, he wouldn't be able to put it on, cuffed as he was. The long chain jingled as he made a minute adjustment to the heading.

An hour passed, and still no sign of anyone or anything. The ocean was dark and the half moon only gave barely enough light to pilot by. He couldn't hear anything from the fantail, but that was no surprise, give the noise of the engine.

He looked back at Tony, who still watched him, and he knew that any change to the course would be noticed immediately. He looked at the marine radio longingly, but it was useless.

Hope was beginning to dry up. He wondered how they could get out of this nightmare.

He hoped that Murray was safe.

* * *

Everything hurt. Nick had tried to protect his ribs and his face, but both thugs were clearly experienced in kicking people who were tied hand and foot. Blood trickled down his face from his cheek, and he tasted blood on his split lip.

His ribs were the worst. He suspected that at least one was cracked. Even his legs hurt from the blows. They'd spared little of him.

They'd finally stopped beating him, and the _Riptide_ had put on speed, which meant that they must have gotten clear of the harbor. Nick watched the bastards through half-closed eyes.

Abbott had enjoyed the beating far too much. Costello seemed to regard it as more of a job. They stood a few feet away, wearing matching dark jackets.

They were quiet at first, watching him. Nick's arm muscles cramped from being tied so tightly behind his back, and he forced himself to take short, even breaths, trying to keep his mind from the discomfort.

Eventually, though, they began to talk, arguing about a football game, turning toward each other to debate it further.

Well, that meant they couldn't see his hands, which were still tied behind his back. He began to wriggle them carefully. Was his pocketknife still in his back pocket?

Yes. His heart jumped in elation. Slowly he pulled it out, careful to not let the action show in his arm. He clicked the button and the blade slipped out. _Not professional enough, boys. Should have patted me down._

The rope was strong, but the blade was sharp, and he sawed through it, trying to ignore the pain he was in. Abbott had one hand on his hip, gesturing with his gun, and Costello laughed at the joke.

Nick knew that he couldn't take both of them down. He had to hope that one of them would leave, and then he could make his move. The blade finally sliced through entirely, and he carefully began to unwind the rope from his sore wrists. The action brought a hiss of pain, but fortunately neither Abbott nor Costello seemed to hear it.

Could he get his ankles free without them noticing? He doubted it.

Abbott looked his way for a brief second, and then went inside.

Nick looked at Costello, keeping his eyelids half-closed as before, and his heart leapt to see that he had turned to look out across the water. If he could just get his ankles free and take Costello out of commission before Abbott came back, he might be able to get the upper hand. It would be difficult to do with just a knife, but with the element of surprise...if he could knock him overboard...get to the gun in the cabin...

Slowly, trying not to groan from the fresh waves of pain the action brought, he brought his ankles closer to his fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours. Cody stood, exhausted, every muscle tight with stress. He was certain they were farther south and west than the Channel Islands at this point, nearly into the wide-open ocean. Then what? Would they be killed immediately, or tortured first? He looked back at Tony, who still watched him closely, showing no sign of impatience whatsoever.

Turning back to the ghostly sea, he wished again that he knew how Nick was. He'd heard nothing since they'd hit the open water. Neither of the thugs had ventured back up to the wheelhouse. _Well-trained._

There was a shout from the fantail, and he heard a gunshot. His blood froze in his veins. _Nick!_ He turned to see Tony stand up and go for the open doors, raising the rifle.

_No!_ Cody tried to grab him, but the handcuff brought him up short, painfully digging into his wrist. Tony aimed the rifle toward the fantail and pulled the trigger.

Cody heard Nick shout in pain, and in that moment he knew true terror.

"Cut the engine," ordered Tony.

It took a moment for the words to trickle down to Cody's still-frozen brain, but he turned and scrabbled at the levers, putting her in neutral and then turning off the key.

"All under control," called out one of the thugs.

"How did he get untied?" said Tony. He sounded so disconnected he might have been talking about the weather instead of holding a gun—Cody's gun—that had just—

"He had a knife."

"Patch him up. Don't bother to retie him; we're almost there."

"Yes, boss."

Tony turned back to Cody, who nearly staggered in relief at hearing that Nick was still alive. "Start the engine again. Get us back on course."

Cody obeyed, his mind buzzing. They were nearly to their destination. They had only a small window of opportunity left to turn the situation around, and with Nick out of commission, it didn't look good. But he was alive. Alive. His hands shook.

Cody kept on the course, relief and panic swamping him in equal measures, making him dizzy. He desperately wished that one of the thugs would come up and give a more detailed report. Where had Nick been shot? How much blood had he lost?

"There's an island straight ahead," said Cody. "Do you want me to go around—"

"Cut the engine." Tony stood up, and Cody put her in neutral and turned the key off. "I'm going to explain something to you, because I doubt your friend is in good enough shape to listen right now."

The chain jingled as Cody turned to look at Tony. "Mr. Shaker, please—"

"Not another word unless asked," said Tony, looking frighteningly cold. "My brother was a jerk, but I promised Mother that I would take care of him. I've listened to Linda's story, and it's clear to me that your friend tried to give Jack a chance. I will extend you the same courtesy by leaving you on that island instead of killing you outright." He smiled, and it was entirely without humor.

Cody opened his mouth to speak, but remembered at the last moment and simply nodded.

"Good. I'm going to give you the key to unlock the cuff, and then we're going to the stern." He tossed the key at Cody's feet. "Slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Cody undid the cuff, rubbing his sore wrist, and then lifted his hands, making his way down the ladder. It was tricky without holding onto the rails, but the ocean was relatively calm, and he made it to the deck.

The thugs had brought the _Ebb Tide_ close to the stern, and he could see no sign of Nick, except for a blood stain on the deck which made his breath catch. One of the thugs was already aboard the powerboat, waiting, and Tony gestured for Cody to board as well.

Cody could see no way out of getting into the boat. Nick was presumably in the cabin already, and Cody had no choice but to hop aboard. Even though he wasn't bound, it was becoming more and more obvious that Tony was going to do exactly what he said and maroon them. Which would get them out of the way of their guns, but leave them with little chance of rescue.

There was still a possibility that he could overpower them on the way to the island. Cody watched as the shorter thug came aboard, gun trained on him.

The first thug turned and started the engine. Tony unhooked the rope and threw it into the boat, giving them a nod.

"Tony said we're supposed to get you off the cabin cruiser," said Shorty, holding his gun in a business-like manner. "The way I see it, that leaves you with two choices. Sit tight and don't give me any trouble, and we'll beach and I'll personally hand you your partner. Give us a reason to, though, and we'll just drop you both in the water and you can make your own way to the island."

Cody nodded in understanding, even as his heart sank further. "Can I check on him, at least? I don't even know how badly he's hurt."

Shorty hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.

Cody went for the cabin as quickly as he dared.

The cabin light was dim. Nick was there, on his side, his shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a sloppy, red-stained bandage on his left shoulder. His left cheek was marred by a darkening bruise and a cut, and his lip was swollen and split. His eyes were closed and his wrists looked raw.

Cody gently touched his right arm. "Nick? Nick, can you hear me?"

Nick's eyes fluttered open, looking dark in the scant light. "Cody?"

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

He closed his eyes again. "I've had better days."

"Look, they're going to leave us on one of the islands. If we go quietly, they'll drop us at the beach."

"Or else..."

"They just drop us in the ocean."

"Doesn't make sense."

Even though Nick didn't seem to be tracking well, Cody knew exactly what he meant. "Tony has a sense of honor, apparently." He pulled the bandage off, checking the wound. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Thankfully, the shot had come from a distance, and the shark rifle wasn't a terribly powerful gun. Still, it was bad enough. Nick had already lost more blood than he should have because the bandage was too loose. He rebandaged the wound and then grabbed a blanket and wrapped him in it.

"That's enough!" called out Shorty.

Cody came back out slowly, holding his hands out in front of him while he took his seat again. The island loomed in front of them, palm trees silvery in the dim light of the moon. Relief and fear warred inside of him as the boat approached.

The other thug grounded the _Ebb Tide_ on the beach. "Get out," said Shorty, gesturing with his gun. Cody jumped down into the cold water.

Shorty was as good as his word, and both of the thugs worked together to hand Nick down to him, still wrapped in the blanket. Cody nodded his thanks at them, though in the back of his mind he hoped to see them both in a prison cell—or worse. Nick was heavy in his arms, and he staggered a little in the wet sand.

Shorty kept his gun on them as the other thug started the engine and put the powerboat in reverse. He revved the engine until it finally broke free of the sand, and then they turned and headed back to the _Riptide_.

The enormity of the situation pierced Cody in the chest. Abandoned on an island in the middle of the night, with nothing but a blanket...he waded ashore through the water and tried to stay calm. Scanning the ground, he looked for something out of the wind, but on an island this small there wasn't much. Near the palm trees there was a slight rise, and he put Nick down as carefully as he could on the leeward side. He heard a strange clinking noise. Unwrapping the blanket, he realized that Nick had managed to steal the emergency kit from the _Ebb Tide_ and smuggle it underneath.

A wave of relief washed over him as he unzipped it and went through the contents. Frowning, he realized that the flares and the flare gun were missing, but there were matches, a first aid kit, and a bottle of water, at the very least.

"Good thing they weren't watching both of us," said Nick quietly.

Cody looked down, and couldn't help but smile, feeling hope spring anew. "How are you feeling?"

"I could use a beer."

"That makes two of us. I'd even welcome the sight of Mimi right about now."

Nick grinned. "I knew you liked her, deep down."

"Yeah, well, anything to get us off this island." He scanned the area. "There are a lot of dry palm fronds...I think I'm going to try to make a fire." His jeans were soaked through, and he shivered.

"Good idea." Nick closed his eyes.

It worried Cody that Nick hadn't even made a bull-headed attempt to help; it told him that Nick was definitely hurting.

_Fire first. Spread out clothes to dry. Then check on Nick and go through the supplies._ Cody picked up several palm fronds that were half buried in the sand. He examined them and decided they were dry enough for the fire.

Setting up stones, he made a fire pit, hoping that it was low enough to keep it out of the wind, and high enough so that it would stay dry.

The preparation for a fire was almost as important as getting it lit. He remembered a hundred fires on islands and beaches just like this one; he remembered drinking beer and watching the stars, laughing with friends. Now it was so much more serious. He had to keep them warm. Breaking the fronds into sections, he stacked them nearby, and then overlapped several pieces in the fire pit. Pulling the matches out of the emergency kit, he said a brief prayer in his head before striking one.

Fortunately the fronds caught easily. There were enough of them scattered on the island to last the night, and if he climbed a few of the trees later on, he could get more. He took off his jeans and set them on the sand next to the fire, weighting them and the extra palm fronds down with rocks. There was no breeze to speak of, but it could rise quickly once the sun came up.

Nick moaned, and Cody was at his side in an instant. He looked pale. Cody checked his pulse; it felt a bit fast, and Cody started to worry about Nick going into shock. He piled up sand and elevated his feet. Checking the wound, he found that the bleeding had slowed down, and he went through the first aid kit and then rebandanged his shoulder tightly, which brought another moan of pain from Nick. He shivered and mumbled something.

"C'mon, Nick, hold on," said Cody. The fire was warm, but it might not be enough. He slipped into the blanket next to him, and wrapped it over them. Nick felt cold in his arms, and Cody held him as gently as he could.

Slowly, Nick's shivering eased, and he seemed to regain some warmth. "Cody?" he murmured.

"Right here."

"'S good."

"Just take it easy." Cody held him until he was certain he was warm enough before he got up again, taking care of the fire. Another couple hours until dawn. The moon had set, and there wasn't much light, except from the flames. He looked up at the cluster of palm trees, trying to estimate the number of dead fronds. If there were enough, he could make a column of smoke that would be visible for a mile, at least.

He lay down next to Nick again, wrapping them both in the blanket. Nick was asleep, and Cody found that he was exhausted, too, the warmth of Nick's body pulling him under into a dream.

* * *

A fiery pain in Nick's shoulder woke him. He shifted, trying to ease it, but instead it redoubled and he gasped.

Blinking his eyes, he looked up into a night sky that held the blush of dawn. Suddenly the night's events came rushing back to him, and he struggled to sit up. He was unsuccessful; his left arm was caught up in his shirt somehow. A makeshift sling.

He lay back, hissing in pain. Now that he was fully awake, he could feel every bruise that Abbott and Costello had kicked into him. Cody was nowhere to be seen. The fire was still burning, though, so he couldn't have gone far.

He stood up, leaving the warmth of the blanket and answering nature's call further down the beach. His feet were none too steady, and he found himself stumbling to his knees in the sand on his way back to the fire.

"Whoa!" Cody's arms were around him, helping him up. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Had to piss." His head spun.

"Next time, call for me." Cody helped him get back into the blanket, tucking it around him.

"Where'd you go?"

"I climbed one of the trees to pull down more palm fronds. It's nearly day, and I figure if I make a big enough fire, someone might see the smoke."

It sounded like a fool's errand to Nick, and he wondered about wasting all of their fuel on it, but there was a desperate look in Cody's eyes that he wasn't going to argue with. Besides, if they didn't get off the island before tonight, he might not make it anyway, fuel or no.

He squashed that thought. He couldn't leave Cody alone here. He didn't even want to think about it. He shivered weakly.

"Still cold?" Cody looked concerned, and immediately got into the blanket with him, wrapping his arms around him. It would have been silly if it hadn't felt so damned good to feel his warmth. They'd done it before, on that ridge in 'Nam. He shivered again, not wanting to think about that terrible night, though its similarities to their current situation couldn't be ignored. Cody's hand was on his forehead, checking for fever, and it felt so good, so soothing. He sighed and laid his head on Cody's arm. "I still don't understand why they took both boats out," said Cody. "This whole thing seems strange."

"Yeah...why not just shoot us and dump us in the bay?"

"Tony said that it was because you gave Jack a chance. He gave us a chance as well."

Nick snorted. "Crazy. But he's probably on to something...he had to know he'd be a suspect...if he makes it look like we went out in the middle of nowhere and shot each other..."

"True, but how can he explain us being stranded on an island?"

"I'll bet he left the _Ebb Tide_ floating out in the ocean," said Nick, wincing at another pain in his shoulder. "Makes it look like we swam to the nearest island after we ran out of fuel."

"And then he docks the _Riptide_, with none the wiser." Cody looked thoughtful. "But what about Murray? He couldn't have known that Murray wouldn't come back early..."

"Maybe Murray's bugged." His ribs ached. Dizziness swirled in his head.

"That's a lot of work in short time. I wonder who Tony's connected to."

"I heard Abbott mention Darnell's name."

"Abbott?"

"The tall one. Costello's the short one."

"Oh, yeah, Shorty."

"I think that Tony's one of Darnell's contacts in the business. Maybe that's how Mrs. Darnell hooked up with Jack..."

"And now that Jack's gone, Darnell's looking to tie up the loose ends that can connect him to Jack's murder."

"He's killing two birds with one stone. He gets Tony his revenge, and he gets rid of us. Murray has to be next." He grimaced in pain.

"You okay?" asked Cody.

He couldn't answer for a moment. It was hard to take in a full breath, and his vision began to gray...

"Nick!"

He felt Cody's hand on his cheek, and slowly opened his eyes. "Cody," he said weakly.

"You need some water," said Cody. "I haven't forced you to drink enough. C'mon..." He put his arm behind his back, pulling him up halfway, and put the water bottle to his lips.

Nick took a few sips. "You need to drink...too," he said.

"I will. First you," said Cody firmly. Nick could tell he wouldn't win that argument, and nodded, taking another few sips. Cody drank a mouthful as well, and replaced the cap.

"Any idea where the hell we are?"

Cody paused, and a troubled look passed over his face for a brief moment. "We're southwest of the Channel Islands," he said finally. "There are a bunch of islets in this area. He just dropped us at the first one we came to." The sun was clear of the horizon now, painting the eastern sky with streaks of orange.

"That western sandbar?" He'd flown over it once or twice on tours.

"Yeah."

He understood the troubled look. Few boats came to this area. Most either went to the Channel Islands, or went due west from King Harbor. "If they left the _Ebb Tide_ nearby, it might still have a transmitter that the Roboz can pick up..." _If Murray is still all right. If they haven't destroyed the little robot..._

"I don't think there is." Cody looked at him closely. "Wow, they really did a number on your cheek." He brushed warm fingers against Nick's face. Frowning, he undid Nick's shirt, checking the new bruises on his ribs. His hand was gentle, but Nick still gasped in pain as Cody probed his abdomen. "Looks like you have a couple cracked ribs," he said. "Anything else I should know about?"

"Yeah," said Nick. "One time I bribed Bobby Henson to send you on a wild goose chase through camp, looking for a mortar cable."

"Already knew that," grinned Cody. "Henson admitted it to me when we got drunk the next night in the canteen." He drew his hands down Nick's legs, pausing at his knee. "Looks swollen."

"Think...I got kicked there." He rubbed his eye. "Think I got kicked everywhere."

Cody's hands were back on his shirt, shifting it over his shoulder to reveal the bandages. He pulled Nick on his side, checking the wound and then rebandaging it. He said nothing, but Nick could see the worry in his eyes. "Looks like the bleeding's nearly stopped."

"That's good," said Nick, and then groaned when Cody helped him on his back again, drawing his shirt closed but leaving it unbuttoned.

"I'm going to get more palm fronds," said Cody quietly. Nick could see the inside legs of his grey jeans were dirty. "You just rest." He gave him a few more sips from the water bottle and then walked off.

Nick stared up into the cloudless blue sky. _Good flying weather_, he thought, and wished for Mimi once again before his eyelids drooped shut.

* * *

Cody was feeling the strain in his thighs. Climbing the fourth palm tree had taken every ounce of determination he possessed, but he'd managed it, and he'd pulled off every dry frond he could, stopping often to check on Nick.

The sun was directly overhead, and warm. There was a slight breeze from the ocean, which had kept him cool as he'd worked.

He scoped out the rest of the island for the millionth time. If it weren't such a death sentence, it would have made a great party spot. Small, out of the way, with just enough space for spreading out...he could almost imagine anchoring the _Riptide_ nearby, sitting on the beach with a cooler full of beer...

_This has to work_. He piled the fronds high at one end of the island, trying to judge air movement. It was calm enough that the smoke might form a vertical pillar, which would be the best possible signal. _If anyone's actually near._

He stacked the rest of the fronds well out of reach. He'd keep fueling the fire through the day, and hope that a charter captain would motor out for an afternoon charter, though he doubted it. They were pretty far off the beaten path.

He saw motion out of the corner of his eye, and ran to Nick, who was caught in a dream, mumbling. "Nick," said Cody, gently touching his face. "Nick, it's okay."

"Where..." Nick's eyes fluttered open, and Cody could plainly read the pain in his face.

"We're on the island, remember?" Cody made him sit up and drink a few sips of the water. It was two-thirds gone already, and he wished they'd put more bottles in the emergency kit. _And a knife. And some granola bars. Hell, while I'm dreaming, might as well ask for a lifeboat, too._

The shoulder wound seemed to be under control for the moment, and Cody buttoned up Nick's shirt, putting his hand between two of the buttons as a makeshift sling. Nick closed his eyes.

Cody went back to the makeshift pyre and looked it over carefully, hoping it would burn evenly and last the rest of the day. _God, I hope someone finds us._ He rearranged the fronds, making a secure base. _I hope Tony hasn't found Murray._

The matches were in his pocket. Funny how such a tiny little box could hold all his hope. He lit one, striking it on the edge and holding his hands around the precious flame as he fed it to the lowest layer of leaves.

The fire caught, and he grinned as the waves of heat danced in front of him. For just a moment he didn't feel so helpless.

Until he turned and saw Nick, who had somehow turned himself on his side, looking pale.

"Nick? Nick, talk to me."

Nick's eyes were squeezed shut. "Hurts," he said.

"What does?"

"Ribs. Think I...took a deep...breath..."

"Just relax. Shallow breaths." Cody rubbed his leg in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

Nick nodded, and lay still. Some of the color began to return to his face, though he still looked bad.

"I've started the fire," he said.

"Good," said Nick quietly.

"I think I can keep it going until nightfall."

"Yeah." Nick opened his eyes, and Cody could read everything on his face; he was desperately trying not to show his fear and pain, but every thought was revealed in his eyes. It made Cody's heart lurch in his chest. He had to do something. He had to get them off this island.

"Stay still." Cody stood up. "I'll be back."

Nick smiled weakly. "Not going anywhere."

He smiled in return, and checked on the bonfire. Smoke rose into the air, grey and frothy, and he was relieved to see that it wasn't dissipating or shifting sideways. He added a few more palm fronds.

There was one palm tree left that he hadn't ransacked, and he set his aching body to climbing it and pulling down the fronds. The wind still hadn't shifted, and he could see the smoke lazily rising in a great plume.

Once the fronds were stacked, there was nothing left to do on the speck of land. Now that he had nothing left to achieve, his mind circled back to what he'd been trying to avoid.

Nick would go into shock fairly soon and die, maybe even before tomorrow. Cody's heart squeezed in terror as he thought about being trapped, forced to watch his best friend die slowly and painfully. And he'd follow Nick soon enough. For just a moment he wished that Tony had finished them on the boat.

Cody rarely prayed. Life was good, and they'd scrambled up the side of good luck and down the side of bad luck many a time without a scratch. He'd known that going into the PI business wasn't exactly the same as taking tourists out waterskiing. There were risks. But he'd always thought they'd stay ahead of the game. He could never have imagined being trapped on an island like this.

He closed his eyes, wishing for rescue like he'd never wished for anything before. Nick was more than a brother to him, more than—he covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to think of what he could lose. What he would lose, if no one came.

What if someone saw the signal and thought it was just another island party? He shuddered.

He couldn't lose hope. He said a prayer for Nick, even though he knew that his faith had become the man lying in the sand behind him and that what he was saying was only words. As long as Nick was in the world, he could live carefree and happy. As long as Nick had been by his side, he'd known true peace and contentment.

Cody walked back to Nick, and lay down next to him, pulling him close. Nick opened his eyes and winced.

"I'll make you a deal," said Cody. "You just keep breathing, and I'll do the rest." Sudden recognition dawned in Nick's face, and Cody knew that he was thinking of that ridge in 'Nam.

"That's _my_ deal...that I made...with you."

"And now I'm making it with you," answered Cody, locking his gaze to Nick's. "I'll get us off this island. You breathe."

Fear and hope and love passed across Nick's face in rapid succession, and, just as Nick had sealed the bargain over a decade ago, Cody leaned forward and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly. At first Nick returned the kiss hesitantly, but then he kissed him with deep feeling, until they broke apart, Nick gasping in pain.

"Slow breaths," reminded Cody, gently stroking his back. His own heart felt like it would burst.

There was a vulnerability in Nick's eyes that made Cody's stomach twist. "I thought..."

"I know," said Cody. "I just—I was scared, and it never...I always thought...I mean, I just assumed we'd have all the time in the world."

Nick trembled in his arms. "If I wake up now..."

"I wish it were a dream," said Cody, smiling. "But then again, I don't." He gently caressed Nick's cheek, feeling the stubble under his fingertips. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"For what?"

"For the years we wasted," said Cody. "I just—it was too intense to think about, y'know?"

"Wasn't wasted," said Nick, looking exhausted. "Just...not the right time. We both...had to learn something..."

Cody retrieved the water bottle and helped Nick sit up, but Nick looked at him pointedly. "I'll drink when you're done," Cody said firmly. Nick looked dubious. "Fine," he said, and put the bottle to his lips, though he didn't drink any.

"You've been...climbing trees," said Nick. "Need to drink...too."

"I just did." Nick gave him another look, and finally Cody took a spare sip. "Happy? Now drink."

Nick did, and Cody could see clearly how thirsty he really was. Another sign of shock, he remembered. He hadn't stopped shaking, either. Cody started to help him lie down, but Nick said, "On...my side. Easier to breathe."

"Sure." Cody rearranged the blanket.

Nick grinned. "Wouldn't want to break...my end of the bargain."


	4. Chapter 4

Nick felt every breath keenly, as if a dull knife was stabbing him in the gut. The sun was warm, but he still felt cold, shivering in the blanket. Cody kept getting up to fuel the fire, and Nick watched as the ribbon of smoke uncurled high into the sky; he wondered if anyone would see it.

He watched as Cody threw more leaves on the fire. Cody. He was still in shock—he'd thought there would never be anything more between them. That kiss on the ridge was ages ago, even though it sometimes burned in his head with a frightening intensity. But after, when Cody had shut down, when Nick saw the walls coming up, he'd done the same, burying that feeling so deep that he could almost fool himself into thinking it'd never existed in the first place.

Almost.

Ever since he'd first set eyes on Cody Allen, he'd wanted something more. And now that they were rapidly running out of luck, and time, it seemed that Cody did, as well. On the ridge, Cody had been just as passionate, just as wanting, but then after...

Nick felt overwhelmed, caught between pain and worry and desire and joy. It all crowded in his head.

Cody carefully lay down next to him, golden and gorgeous even in his filthy clothes, his skin still warm from the fire's heat. "Drink, Nick." The last few swallows in the bottle.

"You..."

Cody shook his head vehemently, and Nick could see there'd be no winning this argument. He drained the bottle. His stomach wasn't handling it all too well, but he clamped down on it until the spasms subsided.

He looked into blue eyes, his heart sick with worry. What if they did get rescued, and Cody shut down again? He couldn't imagine how painful that would be. To have these feelings roaring in his veins, and then be left out in the cold. He shuddered.

He felt Cody pull him into his arms, and he rested his cheek against Cody's chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heart.

He'd just have to go on faith. Cody had made the pact this time, and Nick had to trust in him, that there'd be a time after the island, that there'd be an _us_ after the island.

Nick concentrated on breathing. _In. Out. In. Out._

* * *

The sun had begun its western journey, and Cody watched, his heart sinking with it. Late afternoon, and everything was painted with a golden hue, Nick's cheekbone, the curve of his neck. Cody held him close. It would only get colder after this. Nick might make it through the night, if he could keep a fire going nearby, wrap them both tightly in the blanket, keep his head covered. It was a long shot, but it was all he had. He refused to think about the lack of fronds and the fact that even if he did make it through the night, there was no way he could make it through tomorrow. Not without food, and especially not without water. The sky was still cloudless, and there was little hope of rain.

Nick was quiet against him, though he could feel the rhythm of his shallow breathing against his body. _This just can't be the end._ Fear lanced through him, and he got to his feet, carefully rewrapping Nick in the blanket.

The fire had gotten low, but another stack of fronds set it to blazing again. _Not much fuel left. Damn._

Lifting his eyes to the horizon, he looked out across the water, scanning for signs of anything. His eyes set upon a small white fleck. Too big to be a seagull. He stood watching as it grew closer.

A boat?

He clamped down on the rush of elation. It could be anything. But it looked like a boat. It was moving toward them at a good speed, and Cody felt dizzy with hope. His head spun. Running to the fire, he added more leaves. Checking again, he could see that they were headed directly for the island.

"Nick!" he shouted. "Nick!"

Nick's eyes opened and he tried to get up, looking alarmed. "What—"

"There's a boat, Nick, there's a boat," he babbled. "They're coming toward us."

Nick looked astonished for a moment. His expression turned into utter relief, and he sank back down, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I know, man," said Cody. "I can't believe it. Just stay put." He jumped back up and raced to the beach, waving his arms. The boat was definitely coming closer, and he kept waving.

As it neared, he realized that it was a small powerboat, one with a cabin. _What the hell is someone doing all the way out here in a boat this tiny?_ If they'd come from the Channel Islands, there might be a chance that they'd have enough fuel to get back, but if they'd come from King Harbor, they wouldn't have enough.

They grounded on the beach, and Cody saw two guys and two girls inside. One of the guys threw him a line, and he grabbed it.

"Can you help us, please?" asked the brown-haired girl. "We're lost! We were heading for the Channel Islands..."

Cody recognized the logo on the side of the boat, a rental from a company in King Harbor, and his heart sank. "Cut the engine!" he said, and one of the guys turned it off.

"Do you know where we are?" asked the other girl, looking like she was ready to burst into tears.

They were teenagers. He doubted that the girls could even legally drive a car. "Yeah, I think so," said Cody. "Listen, we're stranded here. We could really use a ride back to King Harbor."

"I know you," said one of the guys. "You busted us the other night!"

Cody groaned in disbelief. It was Blondie. Of all the people to have to beg a rescue from. "Look, I'm sorry about that, but you were defacing property—"

"We were just having a good time, before you messed it up!"

Cody squashed the anger in his gut. _This is not the time for a civic duty lecture. Remember Nick._ "Hey, I told you, I'm sorry."

"Where's your boat?" asked the brown-haired girl.

"It's gone," said Cody. The kids exchanged glances. "Okay, look, someone left us out here—"

"Us?" she said, looking around.

"Me and my partner," said Cody. "He's been hurt. I'll help pilot you back to King Harbor, and you can drop us off at the Coast Guard station."

They exchanged frightened looks with each other. Doubtless there was alcohol on board.

"They're not going to arrest you, I promise." Cody tightened his grip on the line. "Just help us, and we'll smooth anything over. You'll be heroes for helping rescue us, I swear."

"We should help them," said the brown-haired girl.

"Kirsten's right. I want to go home!" said the other girl.

Blondie scowled. "We can make it—"

"They could die," said Kirsten. "Don't be such an ass! Let's get them on the boat and get out of here."

Cody watched them, tension thrumming in his hands. He wasn't going to let them get away, even if they decided not to help. He wasn't certain if he could take them all on, but he thought the girls might not fight if it came down to it, and if he got aboard quickly enough—

"Okay, fine," said Blondie, clearly unhappy.

"My name's Cody Allen," he said. "My partner's name is Nick Ryder. I'd be really appreciative if you could help me get him into the boat. If I can hand him up to you..."

"We'll help," said Kirsten firmly.

It was her tone and the look in her eye that made him sprint across the sand instead of tying the boat up. He didn't want to lose a second.

"Nick," he said softly, his hand on Nick's cheek. He felt slightly warmer than he had before, and Cody frowned.

Dazed blue eyes opened. "Cody?"

"Yeah, man, that boat I was telling you about—"

"It's here?"

Cody nodded. He repacked the emergency bag, and ran back to the boat, handing it up to Kirsten.

When he came back, Nick looked more alert. Cody knelt down next to him. "I'm going to pick you up and get you aboard. Just relax." He buttoned Nick's shirt around his hand, hoping that it would keep his arm as still as possible.

"Okay." Nick stretched out his right arm, putting it behind Cody's neck, helping to distribute his weight, and Cody picked him up, his back protesting with the effort. The walk to the boat seemed to take forever, and he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the next, counting on adrenaline to see them safely aboard.

"I'm going to hand him up," he said as he approached the boat. "Whoa, you all can't stand on this side, you'll tip." He stepped back. "Just the two boy—guys. His left shoulder's in bad shape, be careful."

Blondie and his friend leaned down, and Cody handed Nick up to them, holding his breath, hoping that they'd be gentle. He heard Nick hiss in pain as they dragged him aboard.

Cody pushed the boat off the beach, throwing the line back into the bow, and then waded back to the swim platform and pulled himself up with shaking arms. His hands stung horribly from the saltwater; they were a mass of cuts from the palm fronds.

"Start her up," said Cody. "Let's get out of here."

"Which direction?" said Kirsten.

"Back the way you came from," said Cody. He turned the wheel until the compass showed the correct direction. "Keep her steady on this course for awhile," he said. "I need to help Nick." Blondie nodded, looking sullen, but he took the wheel.

Nick was slumped in one of the four seats, looking awfully pale. "You still with me?" whispered Cody.

"Of course," said Nick, opening his eyes. "Whatever it takes."

Cody smiled. "We should get into the cabin." He helped him to his feet, supporting him as best as he could. The entrance to the little cabin was just in front of them. "Two steps down, Nick. You can do it." Nick stumbled, and Cody held him as Nick gasped in pain. "Almost there." Shaky and weak, Nick took the steps slowly, and Cody helped him lie down on the white cushions.

"Here's the blanket," said Kirsten behind him.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her and giving her a grateful smile.

"And that bag you had with you. The emergency kit is in that compartment," she said, handing him the black bag and pointing to the starboard side of the cabin.

"I—we really appreciate it."

"How about water? You must be thirsty." She reached back, and grabbed a bottle of Evian from Jenna.

"You're an angel," said Cody, taking the water from her, and he meant it.

She smiled and turned away.

The blanket was full of sand, and he shook it out, almost reluctant to use it again. But it was warm, and there was little else, except for a few beach towels that were stuffed to one side of the cabin.

He retrieved the emergency kit from the compartment, and immediately ransacked the first aid supplies, rebandaging Nick's shoulder, which had bled at some point. Probably when they were pulling him on board. He could feel the warmth radiating from it, even through the bandage, and he felt fear spiraling through him. _He'll be all right. He has to be._

"This boat..." Nick coughed and then doubled over in pain.

"Small breaths," said Cody. "I know what you're going to say—I'm going to look into it. Just relax." He rearranged the blanket and the towels on top of Nick and then went back up on deck.

Cody nodded to them in greeting. "Take it down for a second," he said, and Blondie slowed down. Cody reached over Blondie to the marine radio, turning it on. There was no sound, and he turned the knob right and left, confused.

"It's not working," said Kirsten. "We've tried. It stopped working just after we got into the harbor."

"It started smoking," said the other girl.

"This is Jenna," said Kirsten, pointing to the girl. "And this is Deke, my boyfriend." The other boy nodded. "And Neil." She pointed to Blondie.

"Pleasure to meet you," said Cody, his manners on autopilot. "The radio started smoking?" _Damn rental boats._

"Yeah, and then it shut off," said Jenna. She was pulling her black hair into a ponytail.

Cody turned to Blondie—er, Neil. "How much fuel do you have?"

"A quarter tank," said Neil.

Cody went back to the transom and pulled the lid up, checking the size of the fuel tanks. _Damn._ They might make it halfway back, if they were lucky.

He closed the lid and turned back to them. "Based on the level of fuel, I'd say that we have enough to get halfway to King Harbor."

"What about the Channel Islands?" said Kirsten.

"I've checked your emergency kit," he said. "There's a flare gun and a few flares. No one will be out around the Channel Islands at this time, but the charter captains will be finishing their afternoon charters near King Harbor, and if we just get as close as we can, then we can send up flares and hope for the best. It's too dangerous to try to drift around the islands; we might run aground."

"That doesn't sound too good," said Deke.

"It's our best chance," said Cody truthfully. "There are oars, and if we have to, we'll row the rest of the way." _Hell, I'd row this thing into the devil's teeth myself if it means getting Nick safely to shore._

Jenna and Neil did not seem excited at the prospect of rowing.

"Just keep on this course—" Cody stopped and stared at the compass. "Wait—this is the wrong direction. You do know how to keep a course, don't you?"

Neil flushed. "I know how!"

"If you take us in the wrong direction, we'll never get back," said Cody, feeling anger spike within him. "This line on the compass—that's your guide. You need to keep it superimposed over the heading I gave you."

"I got it," he said, looking embarrassed. Cody had more than a good idea how they came to be so far out to sea.

"If we just stick to this heading, we'll be okay," said Cody reassuringly to the others. "Someone will find us." He could only hope that it was soon. Some rescue this was turning out to be. _Out of the frying pan, into the fire._

* * *

Nick heard Cody's voice, something about headings and fuel, and then the motor sprang to life. _Good. Need to get out of here._

He felt Cody's hand on his neck, cool and soothing, and he opened his eyes wearily. He felt warm, not uncomfortably so, but enough to think that he probably had a fever. Cody folded one of the towels into a pillow and put it under his head.

The boat's progress wasn't very smooth. A small boat on the ocean, even a relatively smooth ocean, made for a bumpy ride. He grimaced in pain. His shoulder felt as if it was being lanced with fire, and his ribs were in agony. His left knee throbbed weakly.

He realized that Cody was saying something, and looked up at him. "What?"

Cody's expression was one of worry. "There isn't a lot of fuel. We won't make it all the way back. Maybe halfway."

"Then what?"

"Flares. Hope to hell that a charter captain decided to go out farther than usual for his afternoon charter."

"Doesn't sound promising."

"It's better than sitting on the island."

"True."

"Thirsty?"

Nick nodded, and felt dizzy for a moment. The boat hit a larger wave, and he groaned at the answering pain in his shoulder. He felt Cody's arms pulling him up, the water bottle at his lips, and he drank a healthy swallow. "Thanks."

Cody drank a few sips from the bottle as well. "More?" he asked.

He shook his head, stomach roiling. "If there's no charterboat?"

"Then we row." Cody had a look of determination on his face.

"Was afraid of that." If the tide were on their side, it might be possible, but it was a long shot.

"I have to check our course. I'll be right back." Cody eased him back down to the padded seats and went back up the steps.

Another bump, and Nick nearly cried out as a wave of intense pain washed through his midsection. Panting weakly, he rolled on his side, bringing his knees up, trying to regain his breath. His head spun. Faintly he could hear Cody saying something, a cool hand on his forehead, another voice in the background.

"Cody?" he said weakly.

"Is it the wave action?"

He didn't dare nod his head, thinking he might pass out. He felt Cody's hand withdraw, and then there were voices, faint at first but then loud. Cody's hand was back again, on his wrist, firm, and he realized that he was checking his pulse.

"We're going to take it a little slower, see if that helps," said Cody.

"Need to get back..." Nick gritted his teeth against the pain.

"I know, but too much of this and—" He looked away for a moment. "Nick, we're getting closer every minute, and I don't want to take chances."

The ride did seem smoother, and Nick shifted, trying to keep his mind off the pain. "Did you radio..."

"Not working." Cody sounded angry. "Roger's Rentals, of course. That cheapass bastard..."

"How'd these kids get..."

"Took a wrong course."

Cody's hands gently brushed his knee, and he grimaced in pain. "Lucky for us."

"I'm going to check out the radio, see if I can fix it."

Nick snorted. "Where's Murray...when you...need him?"

"Wherever he is, I hope he's okay." Cody's voice sounded fainter, and Nick opened his eyes to see him walking up the steps.

The rhythm of the boat was doing nothing to help settle his stomach. He felt ill and the cabin seemed to be growing hotter. He wanted to pull the blanket off but it was too difficult to reach. Another bump, and he inhaled too deeply and cried out in pain.

"Nick, you okay?" He looked up to see Cody standing over him. Everything seemed to be sliding to the right.

"Hot," he said weakly.

Cody's hand was cold against his forehead, and he heard him curse. "I'm going to open a couple of the vents," he said. The weight of the blanket seemed to lessen, and he saw Cody taking brightly colored towels off and flinging them to the side. "Better?"

Nick nodded, and dizziness swamped him for a moment. "Thanks."

"The radio is toast. I'd need a soldering iron to fix it."

Nick's shoulder felt like it was on fire, and he felt Cody's hands rolling back the blanket and checking the bandage. The cool air filling the cabin cleared his head a little.

"Just hang on, Nick. Remember our deal," said Cody.

"You took...the easy part," said Nick.

Cody laughed, and bent down, pressing cool lips against his forehead. "Just breathe, Nick, that's all you need to do."

* * *

The motor sounded choppy. Cody let go of Nick's hand and rushed up the steps. Kirsten, Jenna, and Deke stood, looking frightened, staring at Neil.

"Ease back on the throttle," said Cody, and Neil complied. The motor noise smoothed out, but Cody could clearly see that the needle rested on "E."

"What do we do now?" said Jenna. "I don't see any boats nearby."

"We wait until it runs out," said Cody. "We're pretty lucky—the tide is coming in. It will help bring us in closer, and then I'll try using the flares."

"How's your friend?" asked Kirsten.

"He needs to get to a hospital," said Cody. "The sooner, the better."

"How many flares do we have?" asked Deke.

"Three," said Cody.

The engine made another coughing noise, and Neil took the throttle back a notch. He looked scared.

"We'll be okay," said Cody. "It's still daylight out, and I'm sure we'll catch someone's attention. It's such a perfect day, there has to be a charter captain around..."

"Do you see something white over there?" asked Jenna. She pointed to the horizon.

Cody whirled and squinted his eyes, hoping that she had seen a boat, but then he saw a seagull floating on the waves. "Just a bird," he said. "Keep looking, though, that's a good idea. If we see a boat, I'll put a flare up."

"I could have sworn..." She looked crestfallen.

"We might rig a sail, too," he mused. "If there's a distress cloth..." _Hopefully Roger didn't skimp on that, too._

"It's not very windy," said Deke.

"Yeah, but it could get windier later," said Cody. "When did you leave Roger's? How many hours did you rent the boat for?"

"This morning, about ten," said Kirsten. "We stopped and anchored for awhile during the day."

"I paid for a full day's rental," said Neil. "He said we had to return it by eight tonight."

Cody cursed inwardly. A half-day's rental would have meant that Roger might possibly be looking for them, though he doubted it. "We'll find someone. It'll happen, we just have to keep our eyes open."

The motor gave one last cough, and then died.

An eerie quiet descended upon them. "I'm going to go up front and watch for boats," said Deke, climbing his way to the bow of the boat and sitting down. Kirsten went up and joined him.

Cody heard a moan from the cabin, and rushed to Nick's side. "Nick, you still with me?"

"Cody?" Nick's eyes opened. A fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. "Hot."

Cody pulled off the blanket. "I know. Just rest. Small breaths."

"Hurts." Nick closed his eyes, looking exhausted. "Want to...go home."

Cody's heart was in his throat, and he had to swallow past the lump. "Nearly there." Cody took his wrist in his hand, counting the beats. _A little faster than last time._

"Thirsty..."

Cody grabbed the water bottle, nearly dropping it in his haste to get the lid off. Carefully propping Nick up, he let him take a few sips, until he winced. Cody eased him back down. "That's good for now. Just rest."

There was a popping noise from the deck, and Cody sprinted up the stairs, to see Neil holding the flare gun, smoke curling from the nozzle.

"Did you see a boat?" asked Cody, turning and scanning the horizon.

"Yeah, right there," said Neil triumphantly.

A shape flew up from the water.

"That was a seagull," said Cody, a wave of anger gripping him so fiercely he had to hold on to the nearest seat until it passed. "I told you, if you think you see a boat, let me know, and I'll fire off the flare."

"It looked like a boat," said Neil, looking upset. "You were busy, and I didn't want to bother you..."

"We only have two flares left," said Cody, holding onto his temper with everything he had. "Two chances for rescue. We can't afford to waste them on birds."

"Whatever." Neil threw the flare gun on the dash in disgust.

Cody reached out and grabbed it. "It's a bad idea to keep it where it could slide into the water. I'll find somewhere safer." He glared at Neil and took it back down to the cabin.

Nick looked up at him, hope in his eyes, and Cody hated to squash it. "False alarm," he said, sitting down next to him and checking his forehead. It felt even hotter. He began to unbutton Nick's shirt, carefully pulling it off his left arm and then supporting him as he stripped it off his right. The unnatural heat radiating from his body scared him. As did the continued shivering. He threw the damp shirt to the side and wiped him down with one of the beach towels. Nick mumbled something.

"What?" Cody bent closer.

"Sorry." Nick looked miserable.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," said Cody, confused.

"Getting...shot."

"Nick, stop it," said Cody, softly. "You were trying to get us out of there. I probably would have done the same thing."

Nick shuddered. "Just...feel so...stupid..."

"Just rest," said Cody. "Please, Nick." Nick gave a weak sigh in return.


	5. Chapter 5

"Cody!" shouted Kirsten. "Come look!"

Cody vaulted up the steps and looked out across the horizon in the direction she was pointing. He could see a dark speck against the relentless blue. "Doesn't look like it's moving...I think it's a buoy," he said.

Her face fell. "I just thought..."

"No, really, it's good," insisted Cody. "We're getting closer to the harbor." The day was growing cooler and he looked back toward the western horizon, gauging the distance between the sea and sun. Two hours...maybe an hour and a half of daylight left.

"Is your friend going to be okay?" She looked concerned. "He seems feverish."

"I think so," said Cody, absently rubbing his eye, feeling weary. "He needs to get to a hospital...the bullet has to come out, and he has a couple cracked ribs—"

"Bullet?" she said, horrified. "He was shot?" She drew back a little. Neil's eyes went wide.

_Great job, Cody._ "Uh—we were kidnapped—by, uh, drug dealers. They took us out into the ocean and left us for dead."

Kirsten still looked scared. "How did he—why did he get shot?"

"He tried to take down one of the thugs." Cody sat down heavily in one of the seats. There was a buzzing in the back of his skull. "Look, it's kind of complicated. We're private detectives, and—"

"Oh," said Kirsten. "But Neil said you were the security for the pier."

"We are," said Cody. "But we also have our own agency."

"The Riptide Agency," said Neil, snickering. "Keeping the pier safe from spray paint." Kirsten glared at him.

"Hey!" shouted Deke from the bow. "I see something!"

Cody ran forward to the bow, and looked in the direction he was pointing. For a moment he barely dared to breathe. It was a ship, and he grinned broadly. "Good job!" he said, clapping Deke on the shoulder. He raced back into the cabin, grabbing the flare gun, and went back up to the deck. He gauged the breeze and then pointed the gun to the sky and set it off. _Please let them see us. Please._

Pulling out the emergency kit, he found the distress banner. "Go back to the bow and hold this," he told Deke. "They'll be checking us out with binoculars. Jenna or Kirsten...someone...go up front with him and move your arms up and down like this." He demonstrated. "We need them to know that we're not just fooling around." He kept searching through the kit. "Isn't there an airhorn?"

"Here," said Jenna, handing him one from a compartment. "Neil was using it earlier to scare the pelicans. I think it's run out."

Cody grabbed it from her, and sure enough, it was empty. "Damn. Well, hopefully the banner will be enough..."

There was a moan from below, and he raced back down the steps. "Kirsten—call me when they're close..."

"Okay," she shouted back.

Nick was soaked in sweat, shivering, and Cody felt guilty for having left him alone. Taking one of the towels, he poured water from the bottle over it, and then laid it on his torso, wrapping a corner around his wrists. He soaked the other towel and used it to gently stroke his face and the back of his neck.

Nick opened his eyes, looking bewildered and groggy. "Cody?"

"Right here. Not leaving," he said, running the wet towel over his jawline. Nick closed his eyes and sighed. "Deke saw a boat," added Cody. "I've sent up a flare."

Nick reopened his eyes. "Really?"

"Looks like it. Hopefully they'll contact the Coast Guard for us, or tow us back."

"Check...on Murray," said Nick, gasping.

"Yeah, I will, as soon as I get you in an ambulance." Cody made him sit up and drink a little more water.

"Might be...setting..." He coughed and then moaned in pain.

Cody helped him lie down again. "Nick, just rest."

"Murray—"

"You think that Darnell's setting Murray up to take the fall for our deaths," said Cody. "Yeah, I'll tell all of this to the cops. I'll take care of everything. You just stay still."

"'Kay." He sounded utterly exhausted.

"Cody, they're close!" said Kirsten.

Cody jumped up on deck, and relief washed over him so intensely that his knees grew weak. He recognized the boat immediately—the _Trade Winds_, one of the larger fishing charter operations, and he could see Captain Fred up on deck, hailing them. "Ahoy, Fred!" shouted Cody.

"Cody?" Fred looked surprised. "What are you doing out here? Isn't that a rental boat?"

"It's a long story," said Cody. He knew what he must look like, filthy, covered in bruises and blood, but fortunately he knew Fred was a level-headed sort and would keep his mind on the problem at hand. "Look, Nick's below, and he's injured—we need to get to the Coast Guard station as soon as possible. Our radio's out—can you call ahead and let them know we need an ambulance at the dock?"

Fred looked confused, but nodded. "Roger that, I'll call it in. Throw me a line, we'll start hooking you up for a tow."

"Thanks, Fred, I owe you one," said Cody, feeling nearly overwhelmed with emotion. Turning to Deke, he said, "Can you throw them the bow line? I need to stay with Nick." Deke nodded, and Cody took off for the cabin, feeling another rush of adrenaline. He hoped it would last until they got to shore. Underneath the fierce pulse of excitement he could feel fatigue in every bone.

"Nick," he said, touching him on the arm. "Fred's going to tow us in..."

"Fred?" said Nick. His eyes were open, but they looked unfocused. "'S good."

"We're on our way back to the harbor. Just stay with me, Nick."

"Always..."

Cody pulled the towel off Nick's torso and doused a fresh one, wrapping him in it gently. Nick shivered, looking pained.

"Cody—Fred's asking if you want to put Nick aboard the _Trade Winds_," asked Kirsten.

Cody hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea to move him any more than we have to," he said. "But can you do me a favor, and tell him to keep the speed down?"

"Yes," she said. "I'll do that." She left, and he heard her calling to the other boat.

"Nick, they're going to start towing us," he said. "It might get rough."

"Need..."

"I know we need to get back," he said soothingly. "Listen, stop talking, you need to save your strength." He didn't know how long it would take to get to shore, though he guessed less than an hour.

"I told him," said Kirsten, returning to his side. "We're about to take off—"

The boat lurched, and Nick hissed. "It's okay, Nick, just breathe, shallow breaths," he said, stroking his face with the damp towel.

"You must be pretty good friends," she said.

"Yeah," said Cody. "Best friends. Since 'Nam."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

"Look, I can't thank you enough for saving us," said Cody. "If you hadn't come along..." He swallowed, trying to tamp down his emotions.

"There's no way we—I mean, I couldn't live with myself if we left you there," she said. "My dad would have killed me, anyway. He's a firefighter."

Cody nodded. "Thanks."

She put a hand on his arm. "I'm sure he'll be okay," she said, and then went back up on deck.

He only nodded, running the cloth across the back of Nick's neck. _Please, Nick, just hold on._

* * *

Tony was there, black leather gloves, gun, Cody writhed on the deck, blood everywhere, Abbott and Costello laughed and swung each other around—

"No—" said Nick weakly, opening his eyes and gasping. "Cody—"

"It's okay, Nick," said Cody, touching his cheek. "You're safe, we're on our way to shore."

Everything was murky. He couldn't seem to focus on anything, it kept sliding away from him. But Cody was there. "Tony—"

"We're on a different boat," said Cody. "We were stranded on the island, and got picked up by Neil, and now we're being towed...do you remember?"

Nick took a few shallow breaths and then nodded, everything coming back to him in a rush. "How...long?"

"Half hour," said Cody. "Just rest, Nick."

The ride was rough. Every bob and shift translated to agony. He was hotter than he could ever remember being, and yet he couldn't stop shivering. He groaned in relief as Cody wrapped him in a cool, wet towel. His feet, though, his feet felt like they were encased in lava. "Cody..."

"Nick, please, save your strength," said Cody, looking scared.

"Feet...hot..." he pleaded.

"Oh, damn," said Cody, sounding furious.

Nick felt his shoes and socks being stripped off. His knee gave a twinge as his leg was shifted, but the bliss that followed felt so wonderful that it didn't matter. He felt another towel being wrapped around his feet, and he sagged in relief, feeling the cool wetness between his toes.

"Nick, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think..." Cody sounded miserable.

"'S okay," mumbled Nick. "Better."

"Thirsty?"

His stomach clenched at the thought, and he shook his head.

"Nick, you should drink."

Cody put an arm underneath him, drawing him up, and through the clouds of sparkling glitter in the air he could see blue eyes watching him. _Glitter?_ He shook his head, trying to clear it.

The bottle was against his lips, and he drank, but couldn't manage more than a couple sips before his stomach rebelled. "No more," he gasped. Cody's eyes turned bigger and bluer until they filled the cabin, pressing against his ribs.

The shock of coolness against his neck. Voices murmuring and rising, falling. Bright splotches filled his vision, and he couldn't help but blink uselessly. Tony was there, holding a gun against Cody's head. A shift in view, and Tony shot Murray. Nick tried to scream, but there was only agony in his ribs. His head pounded. Murray was here again, telling him something about a modular frequency, insisting he was fine, but Tony was right behind him, the gun was raised, it was Cody's gun, it was his own gun, now Murray was falling and Tony turned to Cody.

Cody, bright blue, eyes turning to glass as he fell, limp, to the floor, his white sweater stained with blood. Nick felt the scream building within him, spiraling upward until it crushed the very breath out of him. "No," he sobbed. "No." Cody stared at nothing, unmoving, slack and disjointed, and Nick's heart broke into shards. "Cody," he said.

There was a murmuring, he thought he could hear a familiar voice, but it was so far away. He didn't want to listen, he had to get to Cody, had to get to his broken body. Blue eyes, dead eyes, calm, staring at him, and he had to hold him one last time. The murmuring sounded panicked now, and he wondered who it was. Murray was dead, it couldn't be him, but there he was, standing next to him, holding a pack of cards, flinging them into the wind.

His vision wavered and faded, and suddenly he was in a dim cabin, pressed against someone.

"Nick, please, please wake up, I'm right here..."

"Cody..." he gasped, a bolt of pure, agonizing happiness striking him like an electric shock. He was propped up against him, and the heat didn't matter; Cody was alive, it hadn't been real.

"You're hallucinating," said Cody, wiping his eyes. "We're almost there. Just hold on. Just a little while, Nick."

He rested his head against Cody's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

* * *

"We can see the docks!" said Kirsten.

Cody breathed a sigh of relief. "C'mon, pal, we need to get you up top," he said. Nick's eyes were closed and his breathing was labored. Cody's vision dimmed for a moment, and he blinked, feeling shaky. _Gotta pull it together. We're so close._

"Do you need help?" she said, eyeing him with a strange look.

"Yeah—need to get him to the deck."

"Didn't you say he had cracked ribs? It might not be such a good idea. My dad always says to keep injured people as still as possible."

"I don't think we have the time," said Cody, gritting his teeth. He could just imagine the rescue workers trying to maneuver in the tiny cabin. "If we can get him abovedeck before we get to the dock, it'll make it that much easier."

"Okay," she said, not sounding convinced.

"I'll hand him up to Deke and Neil," he said. She nodded, and turned away.

Cody stood up, gently propping Nick against the wet towels. He wiped him down one last time. The fever was getting stronger; Cody could feel the heat emanating from his body.

Cody hoisted Nick in his arms, and Nick moaned softly. "We're at the Coast Guard dock," Cody told him. "They're waiting for us."

Deke and Neil peered into the cabin, and Cody turned sideways, putting one foot on the stairs, leaning forward and handing Nick up to them. They grabbed him awkwardly, and Cody took his legs, following them up onto the deck. "What do we do now?" asked Deke.

Cody shook his head to clear the cobwebs; his legs were unsteady. He looked up to see that they were rapidly approaching the Coast Guard pier. "I'll take him," he said, putting his arm behind Nick's back. The boys looked at each other, clearly uncertain, but they let go, and Cody swayed a little, but caught himself.

Fred was an expert captain, and the boat was smoothly nearing the end of the dock. Cody braced himself against the seat. "Deke—get ready to tie up the boat..." A wave of dizziness passed over him, but he could not, would not, let go of Nick. He held him like a talisman, cradled in his arms. His vision cleared, and as if in a dream, the teenagers jumped on the dock, clumsily pulling it close. He could see rescue workers and a gurney. Cody put one foot on the closest seat, hauling himself up. _One more step up._ He fought to put his foot on the edge of the boat.

"We've got him," said a Coast Guard rescue worker, and Nick was lifted away from him. Another grabbed his arm and helped him out of the boat. Dimly he wondered if he should grab the emergency kit, but it was too late, he was on the dock, blinking sluggishly.

"Your friend—what are his injuries?" asked a rescue worker.

Cody gulped. "Gunshot wound...in his left shoulder. Cracked ribs, I think, and he's running a fever—"

"Yes, his temperature is definitely elevated," he replied. "Anything else?"

"Uh...hurt his knee, too, left knee. He got beaten up pretty badly..." A blanket around his shoulders. "Don't need it," he mumbled. "Nick needs..."

"It's an extra, don't worry," soothed the rescue worker, guiding him down the dock behind Nick's gurney. "Just keep walking...nearly there..."

"Cody!"

He looked up to see Murray rushing toward them. The ambulance was parked in front of the pier, and two EMTs were hovering over Nick's gurney. "Murray," said Cody. "You're all right!"

Murray grabbed him and hugged him in a tight embrace. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys! But Nick—what's wrong with Nick?"

"He got shot—" Cody couldn't help it, he started shaking. "Tony Shaker and two thugs came aboard the Riptide..."

"Shot?" Murray looked frightened.

"I think he'll be okay," said Cody, blinking. "He was hit in the shoulder. Stopped bleeding..." He realized he was babbling.

Murray looked at the gurney in concern.

"You're okay?" said Cody. "Did anyone come after you?"

"No, Cody, actually, yes—yes, I'm okay, and no, no one came after me—I've been researching all day," said Murray. "You wouldn't believe the things I've found out about Mr. Darnell and the Shaker brothers, Cody! I've turned it all over to the police."

Cody nodded, which was the wrong thing to do. Dizziness enveloped him, and it was only sheer will that kept him on his feet.

"You don't look very good, Cody," said Murray. "Oh, there's Lieutenant Quinlan!" Quinlan was at Nick's side, jabbing his finger in his face.

Cody sprinted forward. "Hey!" he yelled.

"—and I told you not to leave King Harbor!" said Quinlan, looking pissed. "I'm gonna see you locked away so tight you won't even have conjugal visits with your girlfriend Cody—"

Nick looked very pale and confused, and one of the EMTs put his hand on Quinlan's arm, pulling him away. Cody's vision turned red. "Leave him alone!" he shouted.

Quinlan turned toward Cody, looking him up and down. "Both of you are in serious trouble," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Couldn't pay the rent with your little agency of morons, so you thought you'd turn to taking hits for—"

"Lieutenant Quinlan," interrupted Murray. "I think you'll find that I've put together a very strong case against Ian Darnell, and my evidence will put to rest any doubts that you have about Nick and Cody."

Cody turned to look at Murray. "You do? I mean...you have?" He felt like his head was floating above his body.

"You went over my head, didn't you, you skinny son of a bitch," said Quinlan. "You're the one who met with the Captain this afternoon."

"Leave him alone..." Their faces blurred, and then came back into focus.

Murray looked at him, a worried expression on his face. "Uh, somebody—I think my friend here needs some help—"

His vision leeched of color, turning to grey and insubstantial fog, and the last thing he heard was Murray shouting his name.

* * *

Cody blinked, trying to focus. Weariness circled his head, and he groaned.

"Cody, are you awake?"

"Murray?" he mumbled.

"I'm right here, Cody," said Murray.

Something important was missing. He frowned and tried to concentrate. There'd been a boat...palm trees...

"Nick!" he said loudly, trying to sit up.

"It's okay, Cody, really," said Murray, his hand on his arm. "He's in surgery right now to remove the bullet from his shoulder."

"How..." He licked his lips, and Murray handed him a cup of water. He looked down at his hands, surprised to find them wound in gauze. Taking the cup sent twinges of pain through his fingers, but he sipped gratefully. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," said Murray. "The doctors said that you're suffering from exhaustion and dehydration—"

"Nick's in surgery?" said Cody, worrying.

"They said the wound wasn't very severe. The blood loss and infection are what is worrying Doctor Peterson. But he expects that Nick will make a full recovery."

Cody nodded, sipping more water. An IV snaked out from the gauze on the back of his left hand. He groaned, realizing he was wearing a hospital gown. "Uh...are they going to release me soon?"

"They want you to stay overnight," said Murray. "I should probably bring you some new clothes for the morning, though. Your old clothing didn't make it."

Cody's head buzzed with questions. "Murray, what was it you were telling me before? About Darnell?"

"Well, it's really quite simple." Murray adjusted his glasses, looking pleased with himself. "Mr. Darnell has been laundering money for the mob for a few years. He wants to get a bigger piece of the pie, actually. Tony Shaker works for the mob as a hitman. His half-brother, Jack, used to help him out occasionally. You see, Tony's mother remarried and her second husband adopted Tony, who was only two years old at the time—"

"Murray, what does this..."

"I'm getting there. Now this is the interesting part, Cody. Like I said, Mr. Darnell isn't actually in the mob, he's an associate. He's just being used to clean their money through his nightclub. Technically, Mr. Darnell shouldn't be able to hire Tony to do anything, or even know him, but as it turns out, Tony's original last name is Darnell."

Cody blinked. "Tony and Darnell are brothers?"

"Half-brothers, Cody. Because of their connection, and subsequent social visits, his own half-brother Jack became involved with Mrs. Darnell."

"And then Mr. Darnell found out."

"Yes, Cody, quite right! And that's where we come in. Darnell hires us to watch Jack and Mrs. Darnell, because he's pretty certain that she's about to divorce him and take part of his money and maybe even one of his nightclubs. And he can't let that happen. So he hires us to take pictures so he can come out on top if she does divorce him. But Nick ends up shooting Jack and killing him, and now it's even better for Mr. Darnell. He hires Tony, which is easy because Tony already wants to kill Nick, and now he thinks Mrs. Darnell will be scared into staying with him."

Cody's head spun. "So Tony tries to make it look like we killed each other..."

"Yes, but this is the brilliant part—he tried to pin the whole thing on me!" Murray looked ecstatic. "However, because I didn't come back to the _Riptide_ that night"—his ears turned red—"I didn't know you guys were missing. So when Tiffany and I showed up, Mrs. Darnell was already there, and she explained what was going on. They were planning on me reporting it, or reporting it anonymously, and with the blood on the deck with the shark rifle, they thought that it would make me the prime suspect. Mrs. Darnell and I went back to Tiffany's place, and we used her computers." He looked radiantly happy. "She has the most incredible systems!"

Cody hid a grin. "Yeah, Murray, I'm sure she does."

"Mrs. Darnell helped me find exactly what we needed," he continued, "and now Tony Shaker and his two accomplices are being held without bail. Plus, we have enough to convict Mr. Darnell!"

"That's incredible, Murray!"

"It's all due to Mrs. Darnell, and my excellent computer skills, of course," he said.

"I'll testify," said Cody grimly. "I heard everything they did to Nick. And they marooned us..."

"When the cops find Mr. Darnell, they said—"

"Wait—what?" Cody felt a chill go down his spine. "They don't have him in custody?"

"No, but it's only a matter of time," said Murray confidently. "They're leaning on all his regular customers."

"When can we see Nick?" asked Cody.

"Well, I'm not certain," said Murray. "Doctor Peterson said that he needed some time to recuperate after the surgery. But it should be fairly soon, maybe even tomorrow morning."

Cody groaned. He wanted to see Nick now. He couldn't stop thinking of him, flushed and glassy-eyed, caught in the throes of fever, nearly inarticulate from the pain.

"You really should get some rest, Cody," said Murray. "The doctors said you needed to sleep."

_Sleep? Without Nick beside me?_ "I guess I can try."

"I'll be here in the morning with fresh clothes," said Murray enthusiastically.

"Wait, Murray—be careful—if that guy is still out there, he might come after you," said Cody.

"Not to worry," he said, beaming. "Tiffany is a champion pistol marksman! Or is it markswoman?" He looked introspective for a moment. "Oh, and the police have a guard posted at the pier."

"Oh." Cody raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like you're in good hands, then."

"Yes, definitely!" Murray turned bright red. "See you tomorrow morning!"

"Yeah, good night, Murray."

Murray turned off the lights, and Cody lay back, closing his eyes. He was more tired than he thought, and sleep overtook him easily, pulling him down into dreams of Nick.

* * *

Nick wandered from room to room, colors draining and throbbing around him, the danger growing with every step. He heard Cody shout, and his hand went for his gun, only it wasn't there. His stomach hurt, more and more, and the walls dissolved into nothingness.

He came awake, the pain even worse, and he heard a woman's voice asking if he was okay. He only managed to get the word "sick" out before he vomited. "Sorry," he said weakly before the darkness closed over him once more.

He was on the island again, Cody's arms wrapped around him, the sun brilliant and hot above them. A whispering voice, a pressure on his arm. Tony Shaker, raising his gun, and Nick tried to move, but he felt like lead. Abbott and Costello were grabbing Cody, and he tried to stop them, but Cody melted away and he was alone. Tony turned to him, pulling the trigger with a bored expression on his face.

Nick came awake, his heart racing, only to find he was in an unfamiliar room. Light poured in from the window next to him, and he blinked.

"Nick," said Cody, sitting close at his right side.

Nick's heart jumped at hearing his voice, so warm, so familiar. "Cody," he breathed. "Where..."

"We're at King Harbor Medical Center," he said, and Nick put his head back down on the pillow, relieved.

"Wait—Murray?" he said, turning to look at him.

"Murray's fine," said Cody. "He just went to get some coffee. He was pretty busy while we were on the island...he's managed to get Tony Shaker and Abbot and Costello into a jail cell."

"You're kidding! Murray?" Nick grinned. "That's great."

"Tony was working under Darnell's orders," said Cody. "Turns out that he's related to Darnell. And Murray researched his clubs with Mrs. Darnell's help, and they have enough to bust him under a half-dozen different charges, not even counting conspiracy to commit murder and kidnapping."

"That's great." Nick winced and tried to shift into a more comfortable position. "Take Darnell off our Christmas card list."

"The police haven't picked him up yet, but it'll be a matter of time."

"He's still out there?" Nick stared at him. Cody nodded. "Damn. He might go after Murray—"

"He's probably in Mexico by now," said Cody soothingly. "Thirsty?"

He was thirsty, but his mind raced, frustrated that he was stuck in a hospital bed when they should be out tracking him down. Cody handed him a cup of water and he sipped slowly, his stomach protesting at first. He remembered getting sick earlier. "Was I under anesthesia?"

"Yeah, they had to operate on your shoulder." Cody's hand was warm on his arm. "Doctor Peterson will be in to explain it all to you, but the short version is that you'll be fine."

"And you?" He vaguely remembered seeing Cody crumple to the ground as he was being loaded into the ambulance.

"I was just released an hour ago," he said.

"Your hands—what happened?" he asked, noticing the gauze.

"The palm leaves were a little sharp. Oh, hey, Murray!"

"Nick! You're awake!" said Murray, walking in with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Cody and then sat down on the other side of Nick's bed.

"I hear you're single-handedly running the agency," said Nick, smiling.

"What? Oh, no, Nick, it's all three of us, I could never—"

"I'm just kidding, Murray."

"Oh! Oh, that's funny, Nick, that's really funny."

"Thanks for putting those guys in jail," said Nick.

"Anytime!" said Murray, smiling widely. "It was quite simple, though, if I do say so myself. They hadn't bothered to encrypt their secondary set of books—"

"Well, yeah, any moron knows you have to encrypt _those_," said Nick, smiling and closing his eyes.

Cody's hand squeezed his arm gently. "You just rest, Nick, we'll be here when you wake up."


	6. Chapter 6

Cody watched, trying not to hover, as Nick sat down carefully on the bench seat. Three days had passed since his release from the hospital, and he was obviously still in pain; cracked ribs were notoriously slow to heal, and the doctors had sent him home with little more than pain medication for them, and antibiotics for the shoulder wound.

Nick had slept most of the first two days, but seemed to be less groggy today. Cody turned his attention back to lunch, and just in time, too, because the chicken was ready to come out of the oven.

"Hey, Murray!" he called up into the stateroom. "Time to eat!"

"Hello...Cody, Nick, are you on board?" called out a female voice. "Hello?"

"We're in here!" said Cody, putting on potholders and pulling the pan out of the oven.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," said Kirsten, coming into the salon. Deke was right behind her, hand on her waist, smiling.

"Hi, I'm Nick," said Nick, and they each shook his hand.

"Sorry, I don't think you were ever properly introduced," said Cody. "This is Kirsten and Deke."

"I owe you both a big thanks for picking us up," said Nick.

"We owe you, too," said Kirsten. "If we hadn't found you, we'd probably still be out in the ocean right now."

"Do you want to join us for lunch?" asked Cody.

"No, but thank you," said Kirsten. "We're on our way to the beach. Thought we'd stop by for a sec, see how you're doing. Looks like you're doing pretty well," she said, slyly grinning at Cody, and he blushed, realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"We saw the article in the paper," said Deke.

"Oh, hello," said Murray, coming down the steps.

"Murray, this is Kirsten and Deke, they're the ones who gave us a ride back to King Harbor," said Cody. "This is Murray, our other partner, and our computer specialist."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" said Murray, shaking their hands. "Thank you so much for all you did. It's wonderful that you saw their signal. You know, I've computed the probability as one in three hundred thousand—"

"Yeah, it was pretty incredible," said Deke. "My parents were really mad that we went out so far."

"Neil still hasn't said he's sorry," said Kirsten. "I'm never setting foot on another boat with him for the rest of my life!"

"Me either," agreed Deke.

"Anyway, we're glad that you're...feeling better," she said awkwardly. "Have a nice lunch. Nice to meet you, Murray."

"Yes, nice to meet you both," said Murray, waving as they left. Turning to the other two, he said, "Isn't that wonderful? Aren't they wonderful people?"

"Yes, wonderful," said Cody, and he meant it. He snuck a look at Nick, who looked pensive.

"I'll set the table," said Murray.

"Thanks, Murray." He found a trivet and handed it to him, and then went back to the oven, pulling the potatoes out.

Murray put out plates, napkins and silverware while Cody brought the hot food to the table. "C'mon, Nick, dig in," he said, sitting down next to him. "You need to get your strength back up. I've got lots of activities planned for us." That got Nick's attention--he looked at Cody, eyebrows raised. Cody grinned slyly, and then put an innocent look on his face. "The Traeger brothers have announced they're gonna wipe the beach with us at the next volleyball match. Can't let them get away with that, y'know."

"Right," said Nick, grabbing a fork and fixing Cody with a look that positively radiated heat. "Be a shame to have to bow out with the match...unfinished."

"Guys, I've been researching Mr. Darnell's investments, and I think he might be planning to flee to Mexico," said Murray. "He owns a large share in a nightclub in La Paz."

"Are you still keeping an eye on the local flights?" asked Cody.

"I have the Roboz programmed to look for border crossings of all kinds," said Murray. "I doubt he will cross legally, though. However, Captain Turner is fairly certain that he's still in the States because he just emptied out one of his safety deposit boxes today."

"Weren't they watching for that?" Cody got up and pulled a beer out of the fridge, and poured a glass of water for Nick.

"Hey, get me a beer, too," said Nick.

"You can't have any while you're on the pain medication."

"I didn't take any today."

"Nick, you know you should—"

"Makes me sick. Plus, I felt like a zombie. I'll be fine."

Cody frowned, but brought him one. "Don't come crying to me later," he warned.

"If I'm not crying now, I won't be later, either," said Nick, taking a long drink from the bottle.

"To answer your question, Cody," said Murray, looking at them both pointedly, "no, they apparently didn't know about that particular cache until it was too late."

"So now he has the money to get out of the country," said Cody. "He's probably long gone."

"Yeah," said Nick, but he looked unconvinced.

* * *

The _Riptide_ bobbed gently at her slip, and Nick lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The harbor was dark and quiet, and he shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. It was difficult, but he refused to take any more pain pills; he'd spent the first two days feeling seasick and groggy.

Cody entered the cabin, closing the door behind him, and crossed the room, turning on the light above his own bed. "Still awake?"

"Why bother trying to sleep when I know you're gonna wake me up when you come in?" he said, moving his arm slightly and wincing.

"I should check the bandage," said Cody, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt nearly at the same time. Kneeling next to the bed, he removed the sling and carefully unwound the bandage, checking the wound and then putting a fresh dressing on. "Looks good," he said.

Nick suddenly realized how _close_ Cody was. Close, and warm, his fingers lightly resting on Nick's arm. "Yeah," he said stupidly.

Cody looked into his eyes, a look that Nick had never seen directed at him before, and there was the briefest of pauses between them; the air seemed to have grown electric. Then Cody was kissing him, lips hot and wet against his own. Cody wound his left hand under the back of Nick's head, bringing him closer, and he was astonished at how _hard_ the kiss was, how intense. Cody ravished his mouth—_ravished? I'm losing it_—and Nick moaned, breathless. Kissing like this—he could get used to it, especially when it seemed like Cody was trying to wind up everything he had into his lips. A tiny nip from sharp teeth on his lower lip sent a current of pleasure down his spine, and Nick groaned.

"You okay?" said Cody, looking worried, pulling away from him.

"Uh—just—yeah," said Nick. "Didn't expect..."

Cody's hand was still in his hair, and Cody leaned forward, pressing their lips together, his tongue sinfully wet and thrilling. Nick felt Cody's other hand on his stomach, fingertips sliding under the elastic waistband of his shorts, and he was aware that they were crossing a line and there was no going back. Callused fingers wrapped around his cock, and he moaned as they slid down, the touch so perfect that he shuddered.

Blue eyes met his, and he moaned again, Cody still kissing him while his fingers began a rhythm, hesitant at first, but then growing bolder, stroking him with just enough pressure, hot and sure, until he was gasping into the kiss, his entire body straining as he came, his cock pulsing fire.

Dizzy and exhausted, he lay still, trying to regain his breath.

"Was that—okay?" asked Cody, looking worried. "Are you okay? Do you need a pain pill?"

Nick couldn't find words for a moment, and just panted. Cody jumped up and came back with a warm washcloth, cleaning off his stomach, a faint blush on his face as he did so.

"It was...great," said Nick. "I just can't..." He was frustrated at being unable to reciprocate.

"Later," said Cody firmly. "We have time." He kissed him again, lingering for a moment before he sat down on the edge of the bed. Nick yawned, overcome by sleepiness, and Cody laughed. "That good, eh?"

"Yeah," said Nick. "It's strange, but..."

"I know," said Cody, reaching out a hand and caressing his jaw. "But I want to try, Nick. The island...this is a second chance...we might never get a third."

"Never thought I'd be glad I was marooned on an island."

"Me either," said Cody. "It was always one of my worst nightmares." The corner of his lips turned up in a smile. "You look pretty worn out. I hope your stamina's better when you've recovered."

"Never had any complaints before, pal," said Nick, grinning. "My last name _is_ Ryder."

Cody laughed and covered him with a blanket, kissing him one last time before he crossed the room and turned off the light.

Nick fell asleep, dreaming of Cody.

* * *

"You sure you don't want to play another round?" asked Cody, gathering the tiles.

"So you can mop up the floor with me again?" Nick rubbed his eyes, looking tired.

"Hey, you suggested we play..." The phone rang, but Cody assumed it was Tiffany, who was calling Murray on the hour, it seemed. He looked at the clock; it was after eleven.

"Do you have any other...suggestions?" said Nick. The look in his eyes made Cody's shorts feel uncomfortably tight. He remembered the feel of Nick under his fingers last night, how he'd responded to his kisses, and wanted to do it again, but was afraid of hurting him.

"Guys—" Murray burst into the salon. "That was Linda—he's going to kill her!"

"What? Who?" said Cody.

"Mrs. Darnell just called." Murray gestured excitedly. "Mr. Darnell's threatened her. She wants us to pick her up—"

"Where is she?" asked Nick.

"At a convenience store across the street from Paradise Park. She's really upset, guys, she was crying and I could barely understand her."

"Paradise Park—that's near Torrence and Anza, I think. How did Darnell threaten her?" asked Cody.

"She said she was just visiting a friend, and he called the house and demanded to speak to her," said Murray. "He said she was going to pay for what she'd done. That's when she went into the convenience store nearby, but she said it closes at eleven thirty—we have to get to her before he does!"

"Damn." Cody looked at the clock. "I'll go." He stood up and grabbed his keys from the counter and his gun from a drawer. He looked up to see Nick getting to his feet. "No, you're staying," he said. "No arguments about this."

"You shouldn't go alone," said Nick, sounding just as determined.

"Fine, I'll take Murray with me," said Cody.

"Really?" said Murray. "That's so boss!" Nick frowned and opened his mouth to argue.

"Nick, you know you're in no shape—"

"Cody, we really have to go," said Murray. "As soon as she leaves the store he's going to come after her!" He pulled on his arm, and they took off for the Jimmy.

There was little traffic this late at night, and Cody floored the pedal, determined to get there as soon as possible. "There's a gun in the glovebox, Murray."

Murray retrieved the handgun. "Did you know that Nick has a gun in his glovebox, too?"

"Uh, yeah." Something about the situation nagged him. "Damn," he swore. "We should have called the cops. If Darnell is lurking nearby, they'll want to pick him up."

"Mrs. Darnell said not to call the cops," said Murray. "He said if he saw a cop, that he'd pay a visit to her mother, first."

"What a creep," said Cody. He stepped on the accelerator. Almost there.

* * *

Nick made his way to the head and brushed his teeth in the sink. Rinsing, he wiped his mouth, and then went into the bedroom. His ribs ached and just for a moment he was tempted to take a pain pill, but it wasn't worth the nausea. He didn't want to go to bed just yet; he'd wait until Cody and Murray came back. The book he'd been reading was down here somewhere.

For such a small room, it was easy to lose things. He'd checked the bedside table, but it wasn't in the drawers, nor on his bed.

He thought he heard a pinging noise from Murray's stateroom, which wasn't unusual; there was always some electronic device making beeps and blips. He looked on Cody's bed, too, but still no book.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he felt a whisper of air moving through the room. He turned just in time to see a man clad in black coming at him with a knife.

"Darnell!" he gasped as he realized who it was. Instinctively he grabbed Darnell's wrist with both hands, and felt a wicked burst of pain in his shoulder. _Mrs. Darnell's call was a distraction._

"You've cost me everything," said Darnell, looking maniacal. "My brother's in jail because of you. My business—my marriage—"

Nick twisted to the side, knocking him to Cody's bed. Darnell lashed out with the knife, and Nick jumped backward, out of reach. _Gun in the nightstand—_ He took another step back, fumbling for the drawer behind him, and Darnell lunged again.

Nick put his arms up, trying to grab Darnell's wrist, and felt the blade slice his forearm. Kicking desperately, he caught him on the knee, and Darnell grunted in pain.

Unfortunately, this gave Darnell the same idea, and he delivered a glancing kick to Nick's thigh. Nick shoved him across the room, and then pulled open the drawer, getting his hand inside. The gun was all the way in the back. His fingertips had just brushed against the grip when Darnell tackled him soundly, trapping his wrist between the drawer and the cabinet. He swore, grabbing Darnell's forearm with his left arm, his right hand still trapped in the nightstand.

His arm shook with the effort of holding the knife at bay. His shoulder was in agony, and Nick gasped as Darnell delivered a punch to his ribs. Pulling his right hand out of the drawer, he blocked the next blow and kneed him in the gut, but Darnell grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the floor with him. Nick rolled to the side, barely avoiding another slash of the knife, and grabbed one of Cody's shoes, throwing it as he got to his feet again.

Darnell avoided it easily and took a step forward. "I can dance all night," he said. "But you won't last much longer, Ryder."

"Try me," said Nick.

Darnell lunged again, and Nick went to grab for his wrist again, but at the last moment Darnell brought his arm down, slicing his thigh. Nick threw a right hook, catching Darnell just above his eye, and he staggered back.

Nick's thigh was on fire, and he felt blood trickling down his leg. "The police are on their way," he said, trying to buy time.

"I wasn't born yesterday," snarled Darnell, gingerly touching his bruised face. "Nobody's coming. At least, not yet. I'll take care of you, and when your idiot partners show up, I'll take care of them, too."

_So he expects Cody and Murray to come back soon. Need to bluff longer. I can do this._ "And Linda?"

"I'll see to her, too," he said. "She's last. I have something special planned for her."

"Still a romantic, I see," said Nick. His shoulder burned, and he could feel dizziness stealing up on him. He blinked and focused on the man in front of him.

He gave a bitter laugh. "She made a fool of me. She betrayed my trust."

"They're going to hide her where you'll never find her."

"I doubt that. They're going to panic when they realize it was all a setup. Whether they hide her or not, Linda will go exactly where I expect her to—straight to her mother's. And I'll be waiting for her."

"You'll never get across the border," said Nick. "You know that."

"I have a way," said Darnell. "And—" Unexpectedly, he lunged for Nick, who side-stepped him desperately. Another struggle, and Nick gathered his strength, pushing Darnell hard across the room into his own bed and running for the door.

He didn't make it. Darnell came back up, faster than expected, shoving him hard against the wall, and then brought the knife down, and Nick barely got his left hand up in time, grabbing his wrist. Darnell kneed him hard in the ribs, and for a second everything went dim as pain roared in his gut. A sharp pain blossomed near his collarbone, and he wrapped his right hand around Darnell's wrist as well, panting with the effort. The knife was digging in, despite Nick's attempts to hold it off, and Darnell kneed him again and then put both hands on the knife, pushing it in millimeter by millimeter. Nick cried out in pain, but held on desperately. _Cody..._

He heard a shout, and the boat rocked slightly. Darnell looked up just in time for Cody's running tackle, which knocked him across the room. The knife went flying. Murray came into the room, holding a gun. "Freeze!" he shouted.

Darnell held up his hands. "Get up!" said Cody, hauling him to his feet and patting him down. "Murray, keep him in your sights."

Nick's legs could no longer support him, and he slid down the wall. Cody was across the room in two steps, grabbing his arm, his blue eyes wide with terror. "Nick? Can you hear me?"

Nick nodded in response, but it was hard to focus on anything. The room spun and blurred, and then he heard a ripping noise, and felt something being wound around his thigh. He looked down to see white towels being turned into makeshift bandages. "Mrs. Darnell..." he said faintly.

"She's fine," said Cody. "She's on the _Contessa_." His eyes strayed to the knife wound in Nick's shoulder and he cursed, grabbing another strip of towel and folding it into thirds. When he pressed down on the wound, Nick cried out in pain, and the room went dim. "Nick, no," said Cody. "Stay with me."

"Hurts..."

"We made a deal, Nick," said Cody, sounding terrified. "You promised me." Nick's thoughts slid left and right as he tried to understand. _But we're not on the island anymore..._

There was a noise, someone coming down the steps, and suddenly there were three uniformed policemen in the bedroom. He watched as Darnell was patted down and cuffed.

"Where's the ambulance?" said Cody loudly. "My partner—he needs help—"

"They're just pulling up, sir," said one of the cops.

Cody turned back to him. "Stay with me, Nick. Please, you have to, I can't lose you, Nick..."

Nick focused on Cody's eyes, dark in the dim light. There was something important to say, something vital, but he couldn't get his mouth to work. He stared at Cody, hoping he would understand.

"I know, Nick, I know," said Cody, his hand gentle on his neck. The cops marched Darnell up the steps, and then an EMT came in with a bag and Nick heard Cody take a shaky breath. "He's been stabbed in the shoulder, and there's a cut on his leg. Also..."

The room was going around in circles. Cody's words were like a strange song in his head, and everything looked fuzzy and tilted. The last thing he heard was Cody saying his name.

* * *

Nick sat on the fantail, watching the waves in the harbor. The setting sun was warm on his face, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the light breeze from the ocean.

A light touch on his shoulder, and he looked up into Cody's face. "Asleep already?"

Nick shook his head. "Just thinking." He readjusted his arm as delicately as he could. He couldn't get comfortable, really, considering the constant aches, but he could at least get a little less uncomfortable.

Cody sat down in the deck chair next to him. "Great sunset."

"Yeah, it is." He winced a little, shifting again.

He heard footsteps approaching the _Riptide_, and they both looked over to see Tiffany gracefully leap aboard, resplendent in neon pink clothing and a ponytail. "Hey, guys," she said cheerfully.

"Hey Murray, Tiffany's here," called out Cody.

A moment later Murray walked out on deck. "Tiffany!"

"Are you ready?" asked Tiffany, hands on hips.

"Ready? Oh, yes, I am," said Murray. "I should be asking if _you_ are ready, because the Boz is always ready to party!"

"I'm always ready to party with the Boz," she said, giggling. "Party = true!"

"Guys, did you hear that?" said Murray. "She's gone Boolean."

"Yeah, sure, Murray, sounds great," said Cody.

"May I help you disembark?" said Murray, assisting her off the boat and onto the dock.

"C'mon, the car's waiting," she said, taking his arm. She waved, and Nick and Cody waved back.

"Guys, don't wait up for me," said Murray, grinning from ear to ear. They made their way up the companionway.

"Murray caught a live one," said Nick, shifting again.

"Yeah, she's really nice," said Cody, looking off across the water. "Good thing she has great...systems."

Nick tried not to laugh; it would only hurt. "I'm sure Murray enjoys fine-tuning them." Cody chuckled.

The ocean slowly swallowed the sun, and Nick concentrated on breathing. A Roger's Rentals powerboat motored past, the guy and girl within joking and laughing, and Nick thought again of the desperate trip they'd made back from the island.

Cody was silent for a long moment, staring at the deck. Nick knew he was seeing a bloodstain, one that had been scrubbed off, and when Cody turned to look at him, his eyes were filled with emotion. "I wondered...I thought I was going to lose you. Twice."

"I thought we'd never leave the island alive," said Nick. "You..." He blinked back sudden tears. Cody's hand was on his arm, soothing.

"We're here," said Cody quietly. "We got through it."

The breeze turned cooler, and Nick shivered.

"C'mon, you should go inside," said Cody, getting up.

Nick nodded, and let Cody guide him up, trying to keep the weight off his still-painful leg. He'd have a wicked scar when it healed.

"I've got you," murmured Cody, his arm around him, and together they navigated the steps into the salon, where he sat down on the bench seat, feeling worn out. Cody disappeared and then reemerged with a blanket, which he wrapped around Nick's shoulders.

"Thanks." Nick was a little uncomfortable with all of the care Cody kept heaping on him, but he had to admit, he needed it. Just about any physical exertion left him exhausted, and he wouldn't be breathing regularly for at least another month, thanks to his ribs.

"Welcome." Cody slid in next to him, pulling him close, very close, his breath warm on his cheek.

"Cody..." He wanted to tell him how much he needed him, how much he meant to him, but the words weren't coming.

"This morning I dreamt that we were on the _Riptide_," said Cody. "We were leaving the harbor, and then I heard you shout, and I couldn't find you. I searched everywhere. I heard a gunshot, and I went back to the wheelhouse, and you were there, but you were d—" He stopped, suddenly, closing his eyes.

"I'm right here," said Nick, his hand on Cody's thigh. "Not going anywhere."

Cody inhaled and gulped, nodding. "I know, but it was so real...I woke up, and I couldn't shake it."

Nick had his own nightmares, dreams of Bobby Henson stepping on a landmine, dreams of Cody shot and nearly dying on the ridge and the torturous trek back. He put his hand on the back of Cody's neck, looking deeply into his eyes.

Cody leaned forward, kissing him, soft, needy, his right hand coming to rest on Nick's arm. Nick could keenly feel the intensity in Cody's body; he thrummed with it. Leaning forward to kiss him more deeply, he gasped in pain as he twisted too far, his ribs protesting the move.

Cody broke the kiss, giving him a moment to regain his breath. "I'm sorry..."

"No," said Nick, his arm across his midsection. "Don't apologize. Should have paid more attention..." He blinked, exhaustion stealing over him swiftly, like it so often had in the past few days since leaving the hospital.

"Looks like you should probably just go straight to bed." Cody pushed the table away with his foot. He fetched a pill and a glass of water, and Nick took the antibiotic without protest, grimacing at its taste.

Nick concentrated on getting down the steps with Cody's help, and thought briefly of brushing his teeth, but then gave up on the idea. Cody turned back the blankets, and Nick slid in between the sheets, a bit shaky. He looked up at Cody, who pulled off his shirt and got in under the covers next to him.

Surprised, Nick grinned. "Your bed too far away?"

"Just wanted to be close," said Cody, pulling him close and fixing him with an intense look, a look that said everything. "Nick..."

"I know, Cody, I know," said Nick softly. Cody sighed and closed his eyes.

Nick drifted off to sleep, held securely in Cody's arms.


End file.
